The Catalyst Series
by soulful-sin
Summary: A set of one shots based in or around the universe Catalyst established, where Jimmy has lost his sanity. They have been on LJ for a while...and now are up here. Updated!
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This is a collection of one-shots based around the universe "Catalyst" established.

This particular one-shot is a universe onto itself, as other one-shots lead to another series I won't post on there, where Jimmy regains his sanity at a price.

One last note- this is quite possibly the most disturbing one-shot in this series.

* * *

The cold metal hand of science had never steered him wrong. While it had deprived him of his family and friends, he considered it a small price to pay for the ability to invent without limitation. The weak protests of a disobedient dog were nothing compared to the glory of...what, exactly? What was so glorious in inventing things for people who never deserved them? Those who bestowed upon him a delicate word, an embrace, did so out of fear or anticipation of windfall. However, they were not science as he constructed it. They were alive, not artificial. As such, Jimmy avoided them. Jimmy avoided everything he could not manipulate.

He made a Cindy doll once. It was a trifling, trite thing that lacked her warmth. Of course, she had had no warmth to speak of either, none that he recalled. The doll had been more than a 'doll', but he reserved that title. A cyborg was closer, but he had designed it to care about him. There was the mistake. Jimmy permitted no one to care for himself but himself. Goddard checked to his physical needs...the boy genius lacked emotions, so emotional health was a non-issue. Yet Cindy the doll insisted that Jimmy had burned himself out and would continue to suffer until he remedied the situation. Therefore, he ended her experiment and placed it in the failure bin.

Today, he checked in on Retroville to see whether his inheritance would happen soon. The people, insignificant ants, drove by in their cars, chatted on their cell phones, and had no idea the magnificence of the boy genius they had spurned. They had never appreciated him. No one ever appreciated him.

Goddard floated beside him, but the cybernetic canine was different, better. Everything was better once Jimmy had finished with it. The dog body had gone into the wastebasket, along with Cindy's doll, and the remaining functions had been uploaded into a creature the size of an imaginary pixie. None of Goddard's personality had been retained. There was no point in remaining hopelessly backward.

He touched down to Retroville's main street. If he were not invisible, no one would have recognized him anyway. He smiled, revealing perfectly white teeth, and proceeded on his way. His legs needed exercise, or they cramped. Unfortunately, they needed upgrades that spending long hours in a lab and crouched over an invention could not easily remedy. Jimmy's last few attempts at self-surgery had nearly ended badly for him. Nearly, because the boy genius knew better than to kill himself. He knew all the ways to do it, but he was not that foolish.

He passed former neighbors, former friends, and halted by Cindy Vortex. She had grown much since last they met and her face was long and haggard. She looked dissimilar to his doll and he stared. There was not a twinge of regret or remorse for what he had done or the feelings that had passed when he was eleven. There was nothing left in him to give a damn.

In a perverse way, he was glad she was miserable. From what he recalled of their childhood, she deserved to be miserable. She had made him miserable enough to contemplate this chain of events that led to him here, alone, absent the emotions that she valued. Actually, he should be thanking her. If it were not for her actions and those of his peers, he never would have realized his true potential.

He clipped the cymbals and appeared. Cindy jumped back and screamed. Jimmy curtailed the cry and pressed a hand tightly against her mouth. She stared, eyes wide.

"Neu..." she whimpered behind his hand and he scoffed, resisting the urge to fling her into the nearest window display.

"How ever did you recognize me, Cindy?" he said cordially.

His eyes were cold, distant. The smile on his face looked wrong. His whole face looked wrong. Jimmy had replaced everything flesh with electronics and his blue eyes buzzed in their sockets. Even if they were capable of human emotion, which Cindy doubted, they reflected the man within more than ever.

His cheeks were flesh colored steel. His hair was thick, falling in brown sheets, but when she brushed it, it felt synthetic. Everything about Jimmy was synthetic. She bit back the strangled cry that Jimmy had prevented.

"I had wondered how you were," Jimmy said and shrugged. A small, winged metallic thing buzzed by his head. "In a passing fancy, you must understand."

He released her and she stared at him. He smirked.

"I never loved you, you know," he said, quietly. "What I considered love was nothing more than a fleeting glimpse of insanity. Now, of course, I am much better."

She shivered and opened her mouth to object, but he clamped his hand over it again.

"And all good things must come to an end, Cindy."

He kissed his hand over her lips and chuckled. It was inhuman, like everything else about him. She growled, her first instinct to fight. He removed his hand and patted her on the head.

"Be a good girl now. I have no more use for you."

He clapped two things on his fingers and disappeared. She reached for him and came up empty. She was so angry...was that why tears burned her cheeks?

His mother had died. Jimmy watched his father restlessly attempt to do the things his wife had done before her death. Judging by the dark clothes, wreaths, and the like, Jimmy's mother must have died recently. Jimmy filed that away, since he knew that with Judy's death, Hugh would come tumbling after. It was apparent in everything he did, everything he said, and the way he held himself.

It would be a blessing if Jimmy killed him. In fact, Hugh might even beg for it from his son. Jimmy nodded, smiling. Yes, that was good. Hugh would finally appreciate his son's gifts.

Jimmy clapped his cymbals and entered the house without a sound. Hugh turned, sensing something but unable to pinpoint it. Jimmy smiled and walked quietly to the sofa. Extending his arms, he squeezed Hugh's throat and applied just enough pressure to do what must be done.

The instant before Hugh died, Jimmy revealed himself. He called himself Hugh's angel of mercy, if angels existed.

Perhaps everyone would be better off dead, instead of suffering through life. Nevertheless, there would be more time for that later. He was not in the mood to do the world favors, no matter how much they might need it. Jimmy carried his father's body to where his old lab used to be and destroyed the corpse in a burst of laser light. There was nothing left but ash, scattering to the wind.

Well, he had come here to do what he had wanted and now, it was done. Jimmy turned to Goddard, the pixie thing, and smiled. There was nothing even remotely resembling life in Goddard's programming now, much like there was nothing in Jimmy's mind that resembled his old self. He was not insane, no, he was better. Faster. Stronger. Smarter. Less prone to the stupid acts of a dying race.

"We're going home," Jimmy remarked quietly. "Leave the porch light on."

He smiled as Goddard lit the Neutron's porch. In a few hours, the ghosts would have police company. There would be an investigation, but Jimmy had no intention of playing host.

He regretted nothing. There was no such thing as regret, only wasted opportunities.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: This was one of the first one-shots to deal with the idea that Jimmy has DID, not schizophrenia. Later work on this series yielded the same conclusion- 'James', Jimmy's voice, was seen as a separate entity from Jimmy.

* * *

"No Such Thing"

Jimmy Neutron, now James Provanzano, had built himself a very successful enterprise in Italy. Though he had run into trouble with a few straight cops who insisted that he should return home, in the end, it had all worked out. James had never regained his sanity, had never revisited that quaint little town in Texas, USA where his parents mourned his 'death' and his friends tried to cope, and had never been anything more than an inventor. Nonetheless, that was all James had ever wanted. He had no fame, no glory, but a great deal of money and a lab in which to toil. He saw no reason for anything else.

Sharp barking at his lab door redirected James' attention from his current project. Goddard sat, tail wagging, on the other side. James glared, disdainful. Sentimentality be damned- he should destroy the damn dog. It was the last vestige of Retroville and no matter what he did, Goddard managed to bite him in the ass. Not literally, mind you.

"What do you want?" James snapped. "You can walk yourself. The cybernetic maids can clean up after you. If you want someone to play with you, then select one of the many clones. There's no reason for you to be seeking me."

"Your birthday is today," Goddard's screen read. "Don't you want to...celebrate?"

"Celebrate _what_?" James spat. "If you are done with pedantic behavior, then I must return to work."

"But, Jimmy-" Goddard protested and James whipped out the tazer. Goddard whined, immediately retreating. James proceeded and knelt, pressing the currently off tazer to Goddard's neck. Goddard whined again and James kicked him away.

"I told you not to call me that again. I warned you of the consequences."

"Cindy is holding a reception in your honor," Goddard said and shied away from James' hand. James frowned, scratching his chin thoughtfully. He eyed the mutt, thoroughly kowtowed by now. James paced. The idea had merit. While most traces of his tremendous ego had disappeared, buried with "Jimmy Neutron", this pleased him. Perhaps a trip, incognito, to Retroville was in order.

He was invisible when he arrived. Goddard had not accompanied him. The pesky poodle had some absurd notion of James regaining his sanity when he returned home. James didn't know to what Goddard referred. "Jimmy Neutron" had been weak and thus, had been eliminated. There was no other explanation. No matter what Goddard believed, "Jimmy Neutron" would never return, never darken a doorway again.

He watched his friends cry and felt nothing. He witnessed his parents weeping and felt the same. His ego hadn't been moved either.

"Oh, Jimmy..." Cindy sobbed into Carl's arms and he patted her on the back.

_"Here. Cindy, I'm here_."

The voice in James' head startled him and he spun around, expecting someone else to be speaking. The words had been dim, as if from the back of his mind.

It would have made him laugh if he remembered what it was like to be normal. _James _had started out like this. He remembered his not so humble beginnings. If Jimmy was indeed lurking back there, then that was his fault and hopefully, with the next antidote James constructed, something that could be eradicated for good.

_"Cindy, stop crying. I'm sorry_."

"No, you're not," James growled at the voice. "Because I am not and therefore, you cannot be."

_"I wish you understood._"

There was silence then and James had his mind back. He scoffed at the procession and eyed Cindy as he left. There was a part of him, albeit small, that had wanted to give Cindy one last kiss before returning to Retroville.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Old studies stated that schizophrenia could be cured, or at least treated, by electro shock therapy.

One after another, 'James' flung incomplete and potentially dangerous compounds against the impenetrable stone lab walls. They fizzled, purple bubbles popping, until the glass container and its contents ended their tumult on the floor. The acrid smell of sulfur and phosphate burned his nostrils and he swore, whirling on the creature whose assigned task it was to tidy the lab. That unfortunate creature cowered, aware that his master had entered one of his towering rages. Temper tantrum, outburst, whatever you called it, Jimmy had slammed concoctions into the wall and tore his workspace apart for the past half hour. In addition, it befell Goddard to avoid his master and renew the stagnant, sterile environment Jimmy had had prior to his rage.

Not that Goddard blamed Jimmy. Except he knew that while sane, his beloved Jimmy would never have stooped to the level of demolishing his precious lab because of a perceived slight. Then again, his beloved Jimmy would never have gotten angry about this in the first place, because it never would have happened. Jimmy was furious because he believed one of the companies he worked for had underpaid him. In Retroville, with the sane Jimmy, his master would not have given away any of his inventions. They were too much like pieces of his soul.

Moreover, were there any pieces left now? Had he donated them all to the heartless corporations?

"You weren't created to gawk, Goddard!" 'James' screeched and Goddard's ears bent back. His body quivered and he fought the temptation to run and never look back. His unyielding loyalty to Jimmy would be the death of him.

The brief seconds in which Goddard contemplated his unwavering attachment to his creator; Jimmy reared back and produced the tazer. The ever-present electronic device startled Goddard into searching his assembled tools for a dustpan and broom to clean. Where was it? Why on earth had he never had trouble before locating it, yet, with the additional threat, he hesitated and fumbled? And dear Einstein, was Jimmy advancing on him with it?

No, not Jimmy. He had to stop calling him that. It was James, James Provanzano. Jimmy Neutron had died over two years ago. Goddard contended with his thirteen-year-old resurrected body. For a zombie, Jimmy was certainly rather cunning.

"Goddard!" Jimmy snapped and Goddard recoiled, producing the dustpan and broom a second too late. The tazer pressed against his side and he howled while the scent of burned metal permeating the air. His insides rattled and the world's colors dimmed, flourished, and nearly faded to black. His legs quaked beneath him.

"When I command you, I expect you to obey immediately," Jimmy snarled and Goddard's only response was a whimper of indignation. He set about his assigned task and cleaned the area while Jimmy smirked, gathering his unblemished sketchbooks and notes. Jimmy hadn't been foolish enough to toss them asunder like everything else. The table on which they'd laid and the inventions he'd created prior to leaving Retroville were the only things untouched.

Jimmy glared at Goddard, held the tazer out so Goddard saw the sparks fly and crackle, and departed. Goddard was alone in the place that had stolen Jimmy's sanity. Once his master was out of earshot, he whined.

Goddard toiled, laboring over the task though it would normally take him but a minute to finish. He didn't want to deal with Jimmy. Correction- he really didn't want to deal with Jimmy. The boy had yet to acknowledge his presence beyond more than a maid or a houseguest that has long overstayed his welcome. Verbal assaults were commonplace and Goddard grew weary of the tazer coupled with insults.

How could he reach his Jimmy? Nothing seemed to work. Even an occasional Freudian slip where Goddard referred to Jimmy by his nickname ended badly. Goddard winced, remembering the extent of the electrocution that day. It'd nearly been enough to shut him down for good.

In fact, many of Jimmy's attacks were within that range. Goddard might be gone before he helped his Jimmy. Jimmy shocked him into hibernation and unconsciousness more often than not. He wondered if Jimmy knew the extent of the tazer's prowess and if he didn't, would he even care to discover it? Would he care if he lost Goddard for good?

Goddard whimpered, pained by the prospect. He loved his master, maybe more than a dog should love his owner, and he hated both how Jimmy treated him and how far Jimmy had descended into his madness. But there had to be recourse. There just had to. He couldn't bear the thought of living with Jimmy for the rest of his natural life with him immured in the insanity.

Proverbial tail between his legs, Goddard crept to the living room to find Jimmy lying on the sofa and changing the channels idly, bored. Goddard eased forward, chary to disrupt Jimmy and incite another electrocution, when something else heralded Goddard's arrival instead.

An electric fence materialized and Goddard, caught in the thick of it, howled as the current passed through his body. Wave after wave undulated until he smelled smoke. Panic struck him. Where there was smoke, there was a fire. And where there was a fire...oh, shit.

Goddard howled and produced a fire extinguisher to put himself out. He didn't care that the fire extinguisher's foam had ruined part of Jimmy's experiment. He didn't even care that Jimmy hadn't shifted until he'd seen the smoke coming out of his creation's side. He just wanted to put himself out.

Jimmy fell to his knees and wiped away the excess foam. Goddard whimpered, retreating from him. He wanted to believe Jimmy hadn't intended to hurt him, but he knew he had. If he were a living creature, he would have had a lump in his throat. Instead, combating the desire to cry, he sped on his paws and darted from the room. Enough was enough.

"Goddard, wait!" Jimmy called and, for a split second, Goddard looked back from his vantage point halfway down the hall. Had Jimmy's sapphire eyes cleared or was that wishful thinking? Was the sight of him in distress enough to rouse the part of Jimmy that cared about Goddard's well-being?

_If the stupid dog had properly used his abilities, he would have been able to discern that there was a trap therein and avoid it. It's his fault for catching fire._

_But..._, the weak, subjugated side of Jimmy argued, _he hadn't expected me to harm him..._

Goddard wanted to open his screen and comment, but the last shock to his system had welded it shut. His body convulsed and he quivered, retreating from his master. Every step Jimmy advanced, Goddard fled ten. Finally, once Jimmy had reached the spot Goddard once occupied, Goddard spurted as fast as possible to the nearest exit into the courtyard and locked Jimmy out of it.

He knew it was his job to protect Jimmy from himself. But he couldn't stop shaking and his legs wouldn't support him. However many joules were in that charge, it'd damaged his functioning. The world swayed and tilted; he couldn't stop biting his tongue, and his vision alternated between night vision, x ray vision, normal day perception, and the variety of other things Jimmy had programmed into him. Within his chest compartment, items shifted, appeared, disappeared, and smacked into one another. His body was fighting a war with himself and his circuits were going haywire.

"Goddard?" Jimmy called his name through the glass door and yanked at the metal handle, but it wouldn't budge. Goddard barely heard him. His hearing, too, was snapping in and out. He cried out, unable to stop the painful releases, and unwilling to let his creator touch him. It was Jimmy, after all, who had put him into this condition in the first place.

"Goddard!" Jimmy called and unlike the usual angry tones Goddard perceived from him, this was frantic. Goddard's condition must have startled him into a sense of normalcy.

Overhead, the skies rent with a summer thundershower and Goddard knew by the rumble in the distance, if he lingered here, a stray lightning bolt could finish what was left of him. He forced himself to his feet if only for self-preservation and one of the items in his middle compartment whizzed through the air and smashed the glass door beyond which Jimmy stood. Glass shattered and sprayed Jimmy.

_You mangy cur! You rotten scoundrel! I should have deprogrammed you a long time ago!_

_No,_ a weak voice replied, _this is my fault._

"Goddard, come here!" Jimmy cried, aware he'd have to enter into a chamber to be desensitized and have the glass shards removed from his body. The pain that prickled him somehow drove the voice in his head further back, as if his pain could deter him from spurning Goddard's.

Even if Goddard wanted to obey Jimmy, he couldn't. His legs collapsed with one last great heave and his vision swam before his vision faded to black and his systems, all but one, shut off.

"Source...source of malfunction?" Jimmy inquired, meek and much shaken. He'd extracted the shards from his body, ordered a robot to fix the mess and replace the door, and headed into the lab to check on Goddard. The whole incident had left him unnerved. He'd gone within a hair's breadth to losing Goddard.

"His CPU caught fire," the computer answered in a monotone. That explained the smoke Jimmy had smelled earlier.

"But then why..." Jimmy trailed off, staring at the still form before him.

"You can charge a computer with a burned out CPU, can't you?" the computer replied in its brisk, feminine voice that was an updated version of Vox. "It'll be a husk, but you can charge the battery."

"Is that..." Jimmy could barely bring himself to have this conversation. "Is that all that's left of him?"

"You must replace the CPU. Or it will be."

If Goddard had been cognizant of his surroundings, he would have realized that for the next few days, Jimmy focused only on repairing Goddard and nothing more. His sapphire eyes were unclouded and he was scared sane. The prospect of losing Goddard drove the voice to a back burner in his mind. Even _if_ it was partly Goddard's fault, Goddard was all Jimmy had.

Jimmy worked tirelessly and denied himself food and sustenance. His body ached for sleep yet he denied himself that too. When at last he fell asleep atop Goddard, he discovered that he'd forgotten about the invention he'd promised a company last week. Waking from a nightmare about it reminded him, but he didn't care. Goddard superseded everything. Without Goddard, he had nothing.

And for a short measure, Jimmy remembered what it was like to be sane and care for someone other than himself. But, like all good things, it ended. Once Jimmy had repaired Goddard and restored his functions plus adding a few new ones, he was back to his normal self.

Except he never again erected invisible electric fences to test if someone would trigger them and determine the results. Nor would he permit Goddard or the robotic maids he employed to approach that much electricity again.

It was almost a shame, though. A good shock to his brain might have jolted Jimmy out of his schizophrenia.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: This takes place during "Catalyst" and Jimmy's 'funeral'. I rather liked this piece.

* * *

Today, rather than her usual garb, Cindy donned a simple, long black dress and a black hat with a veil concealing her eyes. Rather than her customary pink sneakers, she wore toe pinching black heels and wobbled when she walked. A single pearl on a chain hung around her neck and only she knew its significance. No matter who asked, she'd never divulge its secret. Rather, she fingered it woefully and waited, sitting in Carl's living room while the overweight boy finished preparing.

Sasha Vortex disliked Jimmy and never failed to voice her opinions on him, but today, she silenced herself. Instead, black hair contained in a bun (Cindy's fell loosely to her shoulders) and clothed in a sparkling black dress, she surveyed her daughter. Seated in the large armchair, the often-quiet Mr. Vortex sighed, glanced at his watch, and offered Cindy a small smile she could not return.

Cindy propped her head upon her palm and sighed herself, recalling the last moment she'd shared with Jimmy. Unlike the others, she knew and acknowledged innately that the Neutrons, grief stricken, provided a farce for Carl, Sheen, and the rest of Retroville. They pretended Jimmy had died rather than abandon them. She envied them. She would have loved to pretend Jimmy had died rather than accept the truth that he'd gone insane and disappeared.

Maybe he _had_ died. There was no way to tell. He certainly hadn't left word with anyone where his current location might be or any hint that he still lived. Hence, a year after his departure, his parents finally decided to hold a funeral with an empty casket and emptier promises. It was their way of burying the past.

Down the stairs at a snail's pace, Carl proceeded wearing a black suit and red tie, his hair slicked back. His eyes flew to hers and she glanced away, toying with a small black purse. Libby arrived soon after Carl reached the foot of the stairs and the three, meeting Sheen along the way, reached their parents' cars and they drove to the funeral home.

* * *

Like all funeral homes, it felt stale and uncomfortable and while the caretaker appeared nice, he was no one with whom Cindy wished to speak. Carl jumped at every odd sound and only Sheen's jabbing him in the ribs prevented him from freaking out. Cindy ignored him and Libby's coaxing to speak. This was a facade, a sham. Jimmy was out there somewhere. She knew it. She wouldn't give up like this.

And if he wasn't...

Tears burned the corners of her eyes and she fiercely rubbed them out. Curled up in a chair, she feigned indifference to Sheen tormenting Carl and yanked the latter down in the chair beside her. Immediately, he ceased arguing with Sheen to study her and, to her shock, he squeezed her hand. She'd never spent too much time with Carl, all things considered, but lately, she'd found herself confessing things she'd never uttered, even in front of Libby, to him. He reached his hand to tentatively stroke her cheek with its back and Cindy shifted it at the last split second. Carl's face fell, but he tried not to show his disappointment.

She knew he only wanted to comfort her, but she didn't want it right now. Especially since she sensed something invisible lurking in the room somewhere, watching them. Tensing, she scanned the area, but there was nothing to be seen.

"What's the pearl for?" Carl inquired, not for the first time. Cindy sighed, hugging her knees and glancing at the patch of air that moved and shifted.

Softly, barely audible, she whispered, "Jimmy?"

The patch of air ceased shifting and Cindy swallowed hard. Tears prickled the corners of her eyes and she sighed. _Damn it, Neutron...if you're there, please answer me..._

"Jimmy's not coming back," Carl said softly and she wrenched her hand out of his. A lump formed in her throat and she yearned to rant at the air. Because she knew Jimmy was here. She knew he was watching her and she wanted him back so badly, she felt like someone had torn her into pieces and trampled her raw, bleeding heart.

_"I think I loved you once."_

_I love you __**now**_

"I know," she said aloud. Her mother's eyes fell on her and she darted to the bathroom rather than admit that she'd teared up. Vortexes didn't cry.

Once inside, she locked the door and hardly noticed the ornate gilded frame decorating the mirror or the opulence inside. Instead, grabbing a roll of paper towels, she daubed her eyes and vowed not to cry. It was extremely difficult, considering where she was and how badly her hands trembled. For a brief second, she saw Jimmy standing behind her, his face cold and expressionless, his sapphire eyes unsettling and mad.

"Jimmy!" she cried, twirling on her pink seat and glancing at him. "Jimmy, you came back!"

Joy consumed her, but, the instant she turned around, he was gone. When she reached out for him, there was nothing but empty space. Cindy's chest weighed her down and more tears burned her eyes. She hugged herself tightly and reminded herself steely that Vortexes never shed a tear. Therefore, she couldn't cry. No matter how badly the temptation.

"Jimmy..." she whispered. "Oh, please..."

* * *

Judy had asked her to deliver Jimmy's eulogy and, against her better judgment, she agreed. Thus, seated next to Carl and squished up against the church pew, she mentally ran through it and then chucked it all out. Planned speeches never came from the heart. The spontaneous emotion really meant something.

And in the back of the room, for a half a second, she saw Jimmy leaning against the wall. His eyes swept hers and his lip curled in disdain. Then he disappeared again. A mind trick? No, he had to be here. He just had to be.

"We are gathered here today to mourn the loss and celebrate the life of James Isaac Neutron, beloved friend and son," the minister commenced and Cindy longed to snap that he wasn't dead. That he was playing mind games and he was standing in the back of the room. Couldn't anyone else see him but her?

The service carried on insufferably and Carl had burst into tears early on, thereby making it difficult for her to stem her own. By the time it came for her speech, she was on edge and her hands were shaking too badly to hold the Bible. Departing, she left the note cards behind (Carl offered them to her but she shook her head).

And, again in the back of the room, Jimmy studied her. Her whole body trembled now and she gripped the altar tightly. Her hands brushed the mike while she quaked and Sasha shook her head disapprovingly at Cindy's uncontrollable reactions. And something in Cindy shattered.

"N-N-Neutron was a great guy..." _Until he went insane._

"He loved science and..." How long could she continue blathering on like this? The words fell out of her mouth, but they had no meaning whatsoever. Her lower lip trembled like the rest of her and she finally had to stop mid-sentence. Her vision blurred and she glanced to where Jimmy had ensconced himself.

"I can't do this!" Cindy cried, tears trickling down her cheeks. "I can't! I can't lie and tell you that I hated him because I didn't!"

Sasha tutted and Cindy screamed.

"SHUT UP! I can't...I can't..."

Panting, she screamed at him, because she knew he could hear her and she knew, damn it, that he was here. "Jimmy! Jimmy, I'm so sorry! Please come back to me! I love you!"

Breaking down entirely, she whispered into the mike, "I love you. I love you, Jimmy. Oh, God..."

Utterly beside herself, she ran out of the room; her vision was too clouded to see anything at all and thus, she smacked headfirst into a wall. Rubbing it gingerly, she wept unabashed, feeling like someone had ripped her asunder. And she could still feel Jimmy watching her.

"GODDAMN YOU, NEUTRON!"

"God...goddamn...Jimmy...Jimmy!"

She wrapped her arms around her legs and bawled like an infant. Tears streaked her cheeks and a gentle thumb caressed them. Tentatively, she raised her head and saw red in the wash of colors.

"Jimmy?" she whispered, barely daring to believe it.

"No," the voice replied and, after she finally calmed down, she saw it was Carl. Too upset to care, she buried her head in his shoulder and wept again, unable to stop. He wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back. One of his hands stroked her hair and he whispered softly, comfortingly, to her.

"Are you ready to go back?" he said after ten minutes and she raised her red-rimmed eyes. Wordlessly, she shook her head and he held her tighter. Awkwardly, he maneuvered them onto a couch and she clung to him. Her reputation was shot to hell. Jimmy was stalking her and only she could see him. Her mother never approved of anything she did, even the things she couldn't control. And everyone was trying to bury the past and pretend Jimmy was dead when he wasn't.

He continued stroking her hair and patting her back. And she continued to cling to him because she didn't care anymore. Nothing was okay.

* * *

And as they lowered the empty casket into the ground, Cindy held Carl in a grip so tight, she'd thought he'd flee. She needed to hold onto something, because she was sinking fast.

And Jimmy's damningly cold eyes watched her. And he didn't care.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: A continuation of the last one-shot.

Cindy dreaded returning home, but, unfortunately, she had to eventually walk up the steps into her pink house and face the facts. However, until that moment arrived, she wasted time in Carl's house and listened to him ramble about llamas with her head against his shoulders. She wasn't sure whether she gave him mixed signals or not, but his warmth and acceptance placated her. Unfortunately, despite that, the snakes in her stomach hissed and her cell phone rang, jolting her out of a pleasurable moment where she hadn't been thinking of how badly Sasha would react to her "episode" during the funeral.

"Young lady, come home and we must have a discussion about your behavior," Sasha said and Cindy stiffened, glancing at Carl immediately. She was sorely tempted to ask the overweight boy if she could stay the night. Hell, she'd brave sleeping in the same room with him if it meant evading her mother's lecture and chastisement.

"I'm fine where I am, thanks," Cindy replied, voice higher than usual. Out of the corner of her eye, a shape shifted and Carl jumped, having seen it too. At least Cindy knew she wasn't going insane...yet. There was still time for that, especially with her mother on the rampage.

"Cynthia Aurora Vortex, you will return home this instant," Sasha snapped and Cindy gulped. Carl glanced at her questioningly and she shook her head, silently rising to her feet and grabbing her pocketbook. Holding a hand over the receiver, she whispered a goodbye to Carl and, whether it was because she believed she was heading to her demise or she was merely grateful for his presence, she pecked him on the cheek. Carl caught her wrist and, surprising her, kissed her hand. There was an awkward moment while the green eyed boy and girl stared at each other.

"You can stay here, if you want," Carl offered feebly and she wished she could accept his invitation. Because anything would be better than hearing her mother rant at her. She wasn't certain she was emotionally capable of handling it right now. Not after the day she'd had.

Shaking her head, she departed and descended the stairs with the dial tone in her ears. Sasha would wait until she arrived home before berating her and somehow, that wasn't a happy thought.

"What," Sasha snapped the instant she stepped in the door and shut it, "did you think you were doing back there?"

Cindy, to put it bluntly, did not want to deal with her bullshit. She kept seeing Jimmy everywhere today and she _knew_ he was there, even if she couldn't prove it. Not to mention she felt personally responsible for his losing his sanity. And she wanted him back so badly, it ached. And if Sasha was going to lay into her, then no thanks.

"I'm going to bed, Mom," Cindy said and Sasha stepped in front of the stairs. Her eyes sparkled dangerously and she shoved Cindy toward the kitchen where her father drank from a coffee mug Cindy suspected was spiked. It wouldn't surprise her too much if it was.

"You ruined the Vortex family name! How dare you break down into tears over the funeral of your _rival_? Didn't we raise you better than that? And how _dare_ you fall in love with him!" Sasha snapped and Cindy reluctantly grabbed a seat. Her father's heavy lidded eyes informed her he was too drunk to care what was going on. Cindy sighed.

"Mom," Cindy said quietly. "No offense, but shut the fuck up."

"What did you tell me?!" Sasha screamed and Cindy raised her head and looked defiantly into her mother's eyes.

"Shut. The Fuck. Up."

"How dare you!" Sasha screeched and Cindy, eyes still locked onto hers, glared hatefully.

"I didn't ask to fall in love with Neutron. It happened. You can't blame me for it. That's number one. Number two, I had the day from hell today, so don't even bother to feed me some bullshit about the Vortex family name, because I know the real reason you're clinging to that fake heritage is because you got knocked up with me and you want to push it at me. Three, I'm sorry you never loved and lost someone that important to you before and you don't know what it's like to wish you were dead rather than deal with it, but you know what? I don't give a shit. Goodnight, Mom. I'm sleeping over at Carl's. And if you want me...you can wait."

Shoving the chair back from the table, she scoffed at her dumbstruck mother and, stomping upstairs, packed a few things and then walked off. Sasha was too dumbfounded to do anything but watch her daughter walk out the door.

Ringing the doorbell, Cindy shuffled her pillow from arm to arm and smiled at Carl when he opened the door. He blinked, befuddled to see her, and then immediately grabbed a bag so she wouldn't be overburdened.

"I'm going to take you up on your offer after all," Cindy said and Carl smiled.

"I've had enough bullshit for one day."


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: This one is somewhat disturbing too…though it sets the scene for a few pieces after.

* * *

"They _dare_ demean me by insisting I attend this _soiree_?" Jimmy snarled, flinging the invitation across his white counter top. Saliva balled in his throat and he spat at it. Goddard whimpered and Jimmy ignored him. Sapphire eyes narrowed, he scoffed. He spat on their invitation. How _dare_ they insist that he make himself "sociable". Feh, what use had he of social occasions? They were mere political shams where the pharmaceutical heads and company CEOs masqueraded their pretty daughters because they thought they were actually attractive instead of promiscuous.

Humans deemed sexuality and sexual contact important. The notion induced more bile and he spat into the pristine kitchen sink. Snapping his fingers, he ordered Goddard to clean it. He had neither house cleaners nor servants. Goddard performed all the tasks and if he shirked from one, he received a stiff reprimand and shock punishment until he relented, howling in misery.

The phone rang and Jimmy yanked the receiver off its cradle. Goddard watched his master intently and whimpered, tail wagging sadly. Jimmy seldom walked him these days. He found excuses not to. He also found excuses not to give him affection. Then again, no one touched Jimmy. His orders.

"You_dare_ threaten my job?" Jimmy snapped and then ceased ranting to listen to the voice on the other end. Stiffening, he turned to Goddard and clenched his teeth.

"Come, boy. I must fetch a suit. We're going...out."

Jimmy Neutron, currently James Provanzano, looked quite fetching in a black suit and a tie. Goddard yipped approvingly and Jimmy permitted himself a smile. Patting him on the head, he commanded him to clean the house so it sparkled and then walked out. He seldom brought out the hover car because it reminded him of Retroville. He hadn't burned it yet, but it was on the agenda to be destroyed.

Pressing a button, a sleek black car, his design and ingenuity, materialized and he slid inside the driver's seat. At fourteen, he was technically too young to drive, but his aging pills made him look a dashing eighteen. Therefore, clearing the driveway, he sped off to his destination.

They greeted him cordially and he refrained from smiling. They inquired whether he had a girlfriend and Jimmy said no. No to a boyfriend, either.

"James Provanzano does not take lovers," Jimmy said coldly. "Love is a weakness."

_And yet, at one time, I loved Cindy..._

"Maybe for the night," one of the girls trilled and danced provocatively in front of him. His body liked it...he regarded it distastefully. Tonight was going to be a long night.

She cornered him seeking solitude. He mulled over a new invention and she hopped into his lap. He shoved her away, but Maria wouldn't take no for an answer. She hugged him and purred.

"Come on. One night. Who will know I slept with the famous inventor?"

Jimmy shoved her away, accidentally placing his hand on her rather ample bosom, and she grinned, brown hair dangling. She had green eyes like Cindy. Why that thought should occur to him now, he didn't know, but he snarled, shoving her back for giggling.

"What are you, gay?" she crooned and Jimmy growled, very unprepared for her launching herself at him and covering his mouth in sloppy kisses. Of course. The girl was absolutely plastered. And no matter how hard he shoved her, she kept coming. Her hand unzipped his pants and groped him.

Jimmy froze and his body chemistry implored her to continue. In that instant where his mind and body feuded, she grinded against him. Jimmy shivered and that little voice in his head, the one that consumed him, whispered, "Let her have her fun."

It shocked him and he stared blankly. _But, why? Why should I permit her to-_

"Let her have you...and then kill her. She can't tell anyone a thing if she's dead."

Logically, it made sense. And Jimmy had progressed far beyond the point of questioning the voice or its criminal activity. Cold and cruel though it was, it had a point. He could use her to please himself and then be rid of her.

Therefore, when she unzipped his pants, dragged them down, and opened her mouth, Jimmy said nothing at all.

He called it alcohol poisoning. And no one knew the difference. Because Maria _was_ a drinker. They'd found her with a beer bottle in her hand, after all. And she'd the grace not to swallow.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: Some of these one-shots had a linear quality, though they were originally posted (and conceived) out of order.

A good rule of thumb for the ones that adhere to a particular universe is that if Jimmy is younger than fourteen, he was still insane.

* * *

Jimmy leaned back in his exceedingly comfortable Italian reclining chair and sighed, shutting his eyes. Vivaldi drifted through the air and Goddard whined, scratching at the side of his chair. Jimmy ignored him and sipped his wine. He was too young to legally drink, since he was only fourteen, but he did nonetheless. Pressing the cold glass to his forehead, he tried to drown out Goddard's whining and focus on the music. Unfortunately, that particular piece ended and Goddard flew into Jimmy's lap.

"_What_ do you want?" Jimmy spat, shoving him off. "If you wish to be walked, you're perfectly capable of rounding the village yourself. If you want food, fetch it yourself. If you've deposited lug nuts, one of the machines will clean it up since you won't. There's no need to pester me."

Goddard's screen flipped open and Jimmy read, "But I want _you_."

Beneath the insanity, where the shred of sanity lingered and, for the most part, hid, Jimmy's heart wrenched. Softly, tentatively, he patted Goddard on the head and he rewarded him with a lick. The moment ended, however, and Jimmy shoved him off his lap. Goddard regarded him sadly, but said nothing. Head low, he answered the doorbell and a person working for a subsidiary of the pharmaceutical company stood on the other side. He recognized him as a representative for the robotic industry and, again, his heart wrenched. Grabbing his age modifier, he bumped himself up to nineteen and joined Goddard at the door.

"I came to see if you have any new inventions for me," the man, with a thick mustache and speaking fluent Italian, said. Jimmy shook his head, because he'd been busy elsewhere lately. The man's eyes landed on Goddard and Jimmy stood protectively in front of his oldest invention.

"He's not for sale," Jimmy snapped, not bothering to be polite about it. He sold his inventions when, in the past, he never would have considered it, but Goddard was something else. Goddard was his only friend and while he couldn't love anything, he cared deeply for him. And he would be damned if someone tried to buy him.

"He must be!" the man exclaimed and Goddard growled, retreating into Jimmy. Jimmy scooped him up into his arms and noted the scorch marks from when he'd electrocuted him yesterday. Now he regretted it, but had no idea why.

"He_isn't_," Jimmy growled and reached to slam the door in his face, but the man slid inside. He poked and prodded at Goddard, who kept barking and growling madly. Jimmy wrapped his arms tightly around him and a flicker of sanity flashed in his eyes.

"You can't have him. I won't let you."

"But he's brilliant!" The man exclaimed. "I must have him. Name your price."

"He isn't for sale!" Jimmy snapped. "Good day!"

That would have been far more impressive if he'd been able to eject him forcefully, but he insisted on yanking him out of his arms and investigating him. Goddard barked fiercely, jumping out of his arms and hovering at his master's side.

"Remarkable," he said, stroking his whiskers. At the moment, Jimmy hated him; everything from the stupid pinstriped suit to that absurd red tie. He reached out for Goddard again and Jimmy glared.

Pulling out his checkbook, he scribbled a price and showed it to Jimmy. Jimmy restrained himself barely from slamming the checkbook out of his hands and shoving him out the door. Diplomatic matters demanded civility. But this person wouldn't take 'no' for an answer and Goddard was _his_, goddamn it.

_He's everything I've forgotten how to be..._

Where that stray thought had come from, he didn't know, and, at the moment, he didn't care.

"Will you leave or will I have to call the cops?" Jimmy snapped. "I told you once, I told you twice. Goddard is_not_ for sale."

"Oh, he has a name!" the man exclaimed, smiling. "Can I see his blueprints, possibly? We could mass produce him."

"NO!" Jimmy cried, aghast. His normally clouded sapphire eyes cleared and he felt, for the first time in two years, a burst of sanity. And he wondered what he'd done, selling his inventions like they were novel trinkets. His inventions were his heart and soul...and here was this man, trying to sell the largest chunk. It sickened him.

"But surely...I've never seen anything like him. You could be rich beyond your greatest dreams," he said and patted Jimmy on the shoulder. He whirled around and picked up the phone.

"I'll give you a minute to leave of your own accord before you're accompanied out," Jimmy snapped. "Goddard is not nor will he ever be for sale."

"But surely the money would be sufficient enough?" he offered and that pen clicked. That pen, reaching to put a dollar amount on Goddard. Jimmy felt nauseous at the thought.

"No," Jimmy snapped, "it would not. Now, please-"

"Another mansion? A lover?"

That reminded him of Maria and his stomach somersaulted. Maria with those green eyes like Cindy's. Jimmy's body trembled. How dare he try to coerce him with sexual favors. How dare he try to buy Goddard in the first place!

"Male or female?" he inquired, smirking. "Both?"

"Over my dead body," Jimmy retorted. "I'm calling the police. They can contend with you."

"Come on, kid, you can tell me. I don't judge. I just write the checks," he said and laughed. Jimmy balled his fists and turned to Goddard, staring at him pointedly.

"Goddard," Jimmy said tersely, "please show this man to the door."

Goddard barked and out of his main compartment came a boot that kicked him into the street. Jimmy slammed the front door, double bolted it, and heaved a sigh. Slumping to the floor, he gazed at Goddard and the dog yipped happily, springing into his lap to lick him affectionately.

_For a moment...I considered someone else other than myself. I considered something equal to me. I considered that I cared for someone. And the thought of losing Goddard petrified me._

"Is this...what it's like to be sane?" Jimmy murmured, staring at himself in the mirror. "To cherish someone else and not deem them beneath me? I constructed Goddard, I pioneered him..."

_And I love him._

"And I'll be damned if anyone like that charlatan steals him from me!" Jimmy roared, smashing the mirror. Goddard barked worriedly and Jimmy smiled weakly.

"Come, boy, we have work to do."

* * *

Pulling out a phone, the man quickly made some calls. Smirking, he glanced in the direction of Jimmy's mansion and murmured, "I see.

"James Provanzano...more like James Neutron."


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: The last piece, evidently, and the only piece that I could not do anything with. I spawned two series, a possible third, but this one was a bust. Oh, well.

They can't all be gems.

Words carry a tremendous weight, whether intended or not. The words "I love you" can make or break a relationship, as can "I hate you"...or, more notably in this case, the words "Help me". These were the words Cindy heard when she opened the door on a rainy Saturday night with the boy genius not wearing a jacket or umbrella on her doorstep. Goddard had offered to shelter him, but he denied it. When Cindy opened the door, Goddard whined, nudging his master. 

"I need your help, Cindy."

She was tempted to scoff and shove him back on his way. What could _he_ need _her_ help on? After all, _he_ was the genius, not she. Why should he need her help at all? Nonetheless, his sapphire eyes pleaded plaintively with hers and she reluctantly ushered him in. Her mother was off at a meeting somewhere (she hadn't listened when she informed her) and her father was preoccupied elsewhere. Jimmy's and Goddard's entrance, therefore, went unnoticed.

"What is it, Neutron?" she said tersely and, glancing about, he implored her to carry this conversation elsewhere. Irritation flashed across his face and Goddard yipped. Cindy scrutinized the mechanical mutt and its owner and its behavior when Jimmy's face tensed like that. There was definitely a correlation.

This was two days after their argument in the Candy Bar and Cindy was none too pleased to see him because he had yet to apologize to her. Still, curious and thoughtful, she led Jimmy up to her room and shut the door.

"What is it?" she asked again and he glanced around the room before settling on her bed. She joined him and that look flashed again. Goddard barked shrilly, snapping Jimmy out of it.

"Why do you looking at me like I'm a repugnant cockroach?" she snapped, folding her arms across her chest. "Does this have to do with the Candy Bar incident?"

"Yes," Jimmy said heavily. "It does. I...I'm sorry."

She nodded, not entirely accepting that apology just yet. Goddard hopped onto the bed and her bed squeaked. He settled between the two and raised his head imploringly at Cindy. Cindy wondered what had him so worked up.

"Is that it?" she said and Goddard continued staring at her. He was telling her something, if only she could figure out what it _was_. 

"No. It isn't." Jimmy swallowed hard and again, that look. Like he was fighting something.

"What's up with you?" she asked bluntly.

"Cindy," he said and hesitated, hands trembling as he stroked Goddard's head affectionately. He struggled again against whatever it was dominating his mind and then met her gaze.

"I think I'm going insane."

The news was not met with quite the same reaction he'd obviously anticipated, because she scoffed, disbelieving him. "What, you _finally_ blow a gasket? Big deal, Neutron. I doubt you're insane. I mean, you're here talking to me-"

Jimmy seized her shoulders and shook her. That look again, only more intense and it appeared, if only briefly, that he'd strike her. Goddard barked fiercely, knocking Jimmy's arms off her. Cindy assumed an offensive position and readied herself to hit him if he did that again.

"_Listen to me when I speak, wench!_" Jimmy snarled and Goddard barked right in the boy's ear. Either it was intended as a reprimand or Jimmy took it that way, because he winced and glanced at Cindy pleadingly, begging her to save him.

She was bewildered, quagmired between his words and his actions. Jimmy rose and strode toward the door when Goddard barked yet again and shoved him back in her direction. The dog was the catalyst here, not Jimmy. And Jimmy loved Goddard too much to permit whatever it was to control him.

"I'll bite that you're behaving strangely, even strangely for _you_-"

"No!" Jimmy snapped. "No, you don't understand! Goddard, why did you insist I come here?"

Goddard's screen opened and Cindy and Jimmy both read, "Because you need her help. You're not fighting this at all. And if you're not careful, it'll consume you. If you don't tell her, _I_ shall."

"Tell me what?" Cindy said, eyes narrowed.

"I..." Jimmy swallowed hard. "I've been hearing voices in my head. Voices that tell me not to trust anyone. To hurt them and shove them aside. To abandon my friends and family because they're pulling me down. That's why I was so cruel to you. I've had difficulty maintaining my normal brain functions because they're seizing control."

"You're a schizophrenic, then," Cindy said, staring at him. "But it doesn't develop _that_ early-"

"I think it's worse than that. I haven't afforded myself much time to examine the matter closely, but..." he hesitated again and Goddard nudged his leg.

"I need someone to keep me tethered to sanity. Someone almost on my level when it comes to intellect. And someone I care about."

Cindy frowned, still processing what he'd said. She wasn't going to refute the intellect part, but, the last one she would. "What do you mean, 'someone you care about'?"

"Stop this game!" Jimmy snapped and his eyes flashed dangerously. Goddard barked and Jimmy settled down.

"In order...in order to preserve myself and for the sake of everyone around me..." Jimmy glanced at her carpet and then her. "I love you, Cindy."

Cindy gaped and Jimmy sighed. Once again, not the response he'd anticipated. Then again, he _had_ dropped a lot on her shoulders in a short amount of time.

"Have you kept a log of when these voices speak and your actions afterward?" she said and it was _his_ turn to be startled. That was so logical and yet, he hadn't thought of it. Slowly, he shook his head.

"And we already know you've been acting irrationally." She smiled weakly and Jimmy blinked. 

"We're going to your lab. And then you'll show me what you've invented since this started. I'll see if there's a correlation."

Jimmy didn't rebuke her. Instead, he nodded and she grabbed her keys, pocketed them, wrote a note for her father, taped it to the door, and halted when they were in the hallway. Pivoting, she kissed Jimmy on the lips and he kissed her back. The sudden shock of adrenaline made her head spin.

"I love you too, Jimmy," Cindy whispered and Jimmy smiled weakly.

"I knew you did. I wouldn't have said that and implored you to aid me if I hadn't already calculated the risk."

Cindy nodded and then glanced into his eyes. They went cool and distant and his hands, on her waist, dropped to their sides.

"_Now_ I'm worried."

"Good," Jimmy said. "Because so am I."


	9. In the Rough

Author's Note: As I explained on my profile, I have decided to no longer update my series. It seems to me that I cannot remember to write for it and due to this, my stories suffer longer periods of time where they are not updated.

Henceforth, this site shall only be for completed works, either one-shots or chapter fics where I upload everything at once.

If you want me, join LJ. I refuse to have a public LJ, since that's searchable through Google.

In the Rough

Emotions were cumbrous things. Today, they chose to plague him and he hardly set to work on his inventions without being beset with emotions and memories. His former self pushed to the forefront and Jimmy questioned why he had chosen exile. It had been two years- one would think that the past would finally die. No. It chose this moment to assert itself and then bemoan its fate, rather than embracing it. He was a thirteen year old child halfway across the world from his home and he hadn't spoken to his friends or family in years.

James eyed the wine bottles he had stored in case he ever had company. Once in a great while, he might be expected to entertain, but the business associates always held parties and meetings on their terms, as if they feared the creature they employed. James knew its potency. He knew its defects and problems and yet, it proved alluring.

The voice had seduced him to its darkness. Now, the voice ruled him and it needed release from its clinging submissive lover. Maybe if James drank, Jimmy would disappear and he'd no longer be under its sway.

Goddard flew into the room as James poured himself a glass. He disliked alcohol and the first glass burned his throat. Grimacing, James poured himself another and Goddard rested on the couch beside his master. His screen opened and James read, "Why are you doing this?"

Goddard was too intelligent to ask stupid questions and while James scoffed and rejected the dog's compassion, Jimmy stared out of those eyes and sighed bleakly. The voice that had once captivated him held him captive and although he wanted to reach for Goddard and explain everything, James viewed this lapse as a weakness. He needed no one's help but his own.

James filled another glass, drained it, and licked his lips to rid them of the astringent taste. He propped his feet up on the table and pressed the cool glass bottle on his forehead. Goddard yipped.

"What do you want?" James said slowly, lazily, aware that his anger drained. He felt calm, tranquil...and the panic James felt at losing himself was replaced by more calm. So what if Jimmy was re-emerging? James could handle him. He could...the voice's persuasion drifted and James filled and drained another glass.

"Why are you doing this?" Goddard repeated and stared intently at his master. James dropped the bottle onto the table and captured it before it fell over. His vision spun; he hadn't eaten today and he had drunk four in less than five minutes. He laughed at this foolishness and again, the memories flashed back. Too fast, too soon. James had needed self control to push back the tide. Jimmy had none.

It was Jimmy who looked up at Goddard this time; the voice faded to a distant, unsatisfied roar. Jimmy remembered spending time with his friends and family. He remembered physical closeness and the casualness with which it was given. He remembered living in a world where his intellect and inventions served a greater purpose than merchandise. He had sold his inventions. He had sold his soul to the devil.

No, 'James' had, this not other self. This split from himself wasn't another personality, because Jimmy recollected everything. And what he did disgusted and depressed him.

His inventions were parts of him. He would never have sold them in Retroville. He never would have abused Goddard in Retroville either. Jimmy touched the scorch marks on Goddard's shell and his vision swam with tears. His inventions were nothing more than machines to him now. He was nothing but a machine now.

He had no friends. The closest thing he could call a friend was Goddard and...Jimmy's cheeks were wet.

"Master?" Goddard inquired and licked Jimmy's face. Jimmy pushed him away, not because he didn't want the affection, but because he didn't deserve it.

He grabbed the bottle and poured himself another glass. He cried harder and the glass shook. He managed to swallow it anyway.

"Jimmy?" Goddard asked, cautious.

"Yes," Jimmy said wretchedly. "It's me."

Goddard barked happily and Jimmy poured himself another glass, drank it, and curled into a ball. His vision swam with more than just tears and he was nauseous. He choked on his sobs and the rising bile in his throat. He missed his parents. Just because he could physically make himself older didn't mean he was emotionally ready for leaving them. Yet James had no emotions, other than anger.

"Do you want to go home?" Goddard asked and Jimmy scoffed. His nose was running and he wiped it with his arm. Goddard offered him a tissue and then cleaned his face like Jimmy was a small child.

"I can't," Jimmy whispered. "The voice is gargled now, but it'll be back."

"Why do you depend on it so much?" Goddard asked and Jimmy had difficulty reading it. Goddard readjusted the font and Jimmy shook his head. The mechanical dog settled for speaking his replies via his audio box.

"Because..." Jimmy wiped his mouth and swallowed back the vomit. "Because...it was right."

Goddard said nothing. His disapproval weighed on Jimmy and Jimmy sobbed.

"Wasn't it?" Jimmy whispered and poured another glass. His hand was shaking and the wine missed its mark. It poured all over the table and the floor. Goddard cleaned it up and Jimmy drank what little he managed to get into the glass.

"If it was right," Goddard answered and cooled Jimmy's forehead with a wet rag, "then why are you so miserable?"

"I don't...I don't know!" Jimmy cried. "I thought I'd be happy, inventing whatever I want and not having to answer to anyone. But I don't...I can't be happy. It's impossible."

Goddard anticipated Jimmy's retching, because he produced a bucket and Jimmy pitched forward. When he was finished, he wiped his mouth with a trembling hand and Goddard replaced the bucket with a clean water glass and another wet rag. Jimmy sighed, letting Goddard tend to him. The water cleaned the taste out of his mouth.

"The only time I was happy was in Retroville," Jimmy said quietly. He closed his eyes and the room spun beneath him. His arm dangled uselessly off the couch side.

"Why don't you return?" Goddard offered and settled on his master's stomach.

"I can't return," Jimmy said. "I've made my choice. I knew I was too insane to stay without harming people and sane enough to realize that."

"If you return, your family and friends might be able to help," Goddard said.

"How?" Jimmy barked. "They're the reason this happened."

"No," Goddard said sternly, so sternly that Jimmy opened his eyes to regard him. "They aren't. The only person who failed you was yourself."

"What?" Jimmy said and attempted to sit up. That was a failed venture and he remained stationary. He looked at Goddard and sniffled. "They were...they were beneath them. They were-"

"You believe every word," Goddard said scathingly. "You believe every lie that voice whispered in your mind. If it had told you the best way to suit your genius was to kill yourself because the others leeched it and it was better to deny the world your intelligence than to have it exist where people could usurp it, you would have killed yourself."

"No!" Jimmy said quickly, desperately. "That's not true!"

"Isn't it?" Goddard replied. "It has complete control over you. Is it so incomprehensible that it might say jump and you would reply, 'how high?' "

"I would never..." Jimmy started defiantly and then stopped. "I wouldn't, wouldn't I?"

The knowledge prompted another tearful round and Jimmy gasped in between sobs. Goddard stroked his face and Jimmy hugged him.

"Go home," Goddard instructed. "Go to your parents."  
"I can't!" Jimmy cried. He looked down, at Goddard's shell, and his chest heaved. "I'd only hurt them."

"You don't think their believing you to be dead is hurting them?" Goddard replied.

"It's better than the truth!" Jimmy retorted. "They remembered me as I once was, not the way I am now."

"They can help," Goddard said.

"No," Jimmy said. "No one can help now."

Goddard whined and Jimmy shut his eyes. He reached for the bottle and his fingers grazed it. No one could help him now. He was helpless. Jimmy cried harder and Goddard wiped the tears away. For one chilling second, Jimmy wondered what life would have been like if he had left Goddard behind in Retroville.

He cried and drifted aimlessly, too dizzy to move and too depressed to speak.

"If I called your parents, would you talk to them?" Goddard asked quietly.

"Goddard, _no_," Jimmy moaned. 

"Please, Jimmy," Goddard said.

"No!" Jimmy said. "I forbid you."

Goddard whined and rested his head on Jimmy's stomach. Jimmy wept, wishing he trusted himself enough to confide in someone else.

"There's nothing you can do," Jimmy gasped. "Stay here."

There was silence and Jimmy drifted again, lost in memories. He and Cindy on that deserted island...why had he looked through thirty seven shells to find her that pearl? What was so important about it, about them? What was...?

Jimmy's drifting lost any aim and he slipped into unconscious. His last sensation was Goddard licking his tears away.


	10. Most Dangerous Game

Author's Note: This is an alternate universe of an alternate universe, set in the same span as my "Mental" series, which changes Jimmy's voice into a definitive personality. James, the opposing personality, has desired Jimmy's departure from day one and has recently decided on how to best achieve it.

The Catalyst Series: 

The Most Dangerous Game

The most dangerous game was afoot. James had successfully murdered Cindy and, as an added bonus, threw in Carl and Sheen. He compounded his deeds by flooding Jimmy with memories of his friends right after their untimely deaths. For the last six hours, Jimmy had sobbed, heartbroken, in the back of James' head. James had returned to the mansion covered in blood, but had refused to explain himself. No matter what Goddard attempted, Jimmy refused to surface. James had been unable to grant Jimmy one last intimate exchange with Cindy, but it didn't matter. The horrified expression and powerless was better than James had anticipated.

And now, Jimmy was gone. He wasn't even a blip on the radar. Amused, James had allowed Goddard to probe for Jimmy, now that confidence had replaced any doubtful shadow. The cyborg had been unable to assert any trace of him. If Jimmy continued to exist, if James' actions hadn't caused the boy genius to kill his personality off, Goddard couldn't nudge him into responding. And why should he? It was by his own hands that his beloved Cindy and his friends were dead. He remembered them as they once were and then saw their lifeless corpses. They had received their just rewards...and James was finally free from Jimmy's meddling.

James stripped off his bloody t-shirt and tossed it onto the bathroom floor. The pants and boxers went next and James scowled. Blood had matted his hair and stuck to his skin. He should have anticipated the blood spraying after he had slit Cindy's throat. Then, in order to prevent Carl and Sheen from screaming, James had acted in haste and stabbed the two. It had been a mess and now James could paint by numbers with their blood.

He activated the shower head and watched for a long while as the red flowed, coloring the clear water and staining the drain. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook it out, rather like a dog. A dog. That reminded him. He laughed harshly. He hadn't seen Goddard since the cyborg had failed. Perhaps the cyborg wouldn't make do on his threat and had turned tail to hide from his master. It would serve him right.

Fingers dripping watered down blood, he reached for the soap. A grey tinged hand rested atop his and James whirled, staring into Goddard's eyes. The cyborg wore nothing, but there was nothing remotely sexual about his posture or expression. Intuitively, James recoiled from him. Goddard's eyes were frigid; his mouth a slash across his face like it had been cut from stone. His nostrils flared and for the minute movement, Goddard tracked him.

"I know what you did," Goddard said. His voice lacked inflection, but for a brief time, fury smoldered in his steel eyes. The reaction dissipated and James hurried to compose himself.

"Get out," James snapped. "If I need you, I'll call you on later."

Goddard showed no sign of hearing him.

"Get out. That's an order," James said, voice wavering. Goddard tilted James' head in between his crushing hands and forced eye contact. James recoiled; whatever iota of a conscience Jimmy had installed in his companion had fled and James had a suspicion that Goddard was about to make do on his promise and then some.

"There used to be a trace, however small, of perfect sapphire in your eyes," Goddard noted. "Whenever you tortured me, whenever you verbally abused me, I sought it out. As long as that trace was there, I knew that Jimmy lived and that eventually, things had to improve."

James sneered at the romantic notion.

"To accompany the sapphire hint was a barely perceptible pattern that I knew so well," the cyborg continued. "And now..."

"You've outlived your usefulness," James snorted. He reached for the soap to wash away the blood congealed on his neck and Goddard leaned forward, eliminating the space between them. His cool breath contrasted the shower's heat.

"You killed him," Goddard said. James expected a whine after the statement, yet the cyborg was impossibly cool and collected.

"Aren't you going to grieve?" James sneered.

Goddard silenced. He scanned James' body and examined the blood. A hard smile crossed his lips and he stepped back, closing the curtain behind him but leaving enough space for James to see him depart.

"Forgive me for disrupting you, _master_," Goddard said. The last word was derisive and James shivered. He'd have to figure out a way to decommission Goddard and soon. From someone who had just murdered three people, that was _creepy_. He felt almost _guilty_, but why should he care? Cindy, Carl, and Sheen had held him back and maintained Jimmy. Now, he'd never have that problem again.  
**...**

"Forgive me, Jimmy," Goddard murmured to a picture case. He had rescued it from James' destruction and stolen it from the Neutrons' house. He stroked Jimmy's cheek with his finger and displayed his sorrow for but a few seconds. He raised the picture frame to his lips and licked Jimmy's representation, 

just like old times.

"I'll grieve when it's over, master."

Quietly, he added, "I loved you.'  
**...**

James' next project had, coincidentally enough, been a pill to prolong alertness and prevent exhaustion. He hadn't perfected it, however, before acting, and he knew he'd need it soon for himself. The side effects were still unpredictable and the last lab rat he'd experimented on had exploded. James would prefer to avoid that fate.

He toiled late into the night and only developed a headache in response. All of his creativity and influence was beyond him. He should be able to solve the dilemma before him easily, but the longer he worked, the less he actually got done. Invention was a process and, simultaneously, a mathematical problem to be resolved. Both eluded him.

"Having problems, _master_?" Goddard inquired at four in the morning when James was about to fall asleep and his neck ached from craning over the table for too long.

"You can cease the condescension, Goddard," James growled. "And yes, I am, not that it's any of your business."

The cyborg laughed. It echoed in the lab and, once it bounced back, Goddard laughed harder. He smiled humorlessly at James and James glowered.

"What the hell is so funny?" James demanded.

"You've used up your supply," was the answer. He laughed again. "You'll never invent anything ever again."

"What are you talking about?" James snapped. "I demand you tell me or else."

Goddard stared at him. The ghost of a smile crossed his lips and he turned away. "No, I don't think I will. Sleep well, sweet dreams, James."

"You will tell me what you meant!" James snapped. He yawned and then jumped to his feet. The taser was close at hand, as it had been for hours, anticipating Goddard's return. He flicked it on and Goddard eyed it like one might regard a cheap, plastic toy. He batted it out the teenager's hand and then stared at him. His eyes were empty.

"There's nothing there anymore," Goddard said. "Good night, master."  


He clicked the cymbals (how had he stolen them? and when?) and transported himself away. James yawned and used the lab's elevator to return to his room. He tossed his clothes aside and crawled into bed. He'd worry about it in the morning. He'd had a very long day, after all.  
**...**

"He has no clue," Goddard murmured to Jimmy's picture. Though he knew Jimmy was long gone, it comforted him to speak to the portrait. Nothing else in the mansion came close to Goddard's level of interaction and life, after all. James wasn't alive, not really.

"I should kill him. That would be merciful."

Goddard laughed that dissonant sound that had unnerved James. "James deserves no mercy."  
**...**

The cyborg hadn't prepared breakfast. He knew better and James smiled at the platter the servers had prepared. The servers double and triple checked his food for poisons and James doubted Goddard would resort to such garish efforts. He ate his breakfast slowly, relishing the first meal without Jimmy looming in the background. Just to be sure, however, he nudged that area where Jimmy used to reside.

_**Jimmy?**_

He half expected a wail or remorseful cry. There was no response. He probed further, exploring the new areas that Jimmy had left him. Nowhere in his mind could he locate the brain's former owner. James laughed.

Now that was ascertained, he had to resume work on his invention. Goddard's bizarre comments sprang to mind and James snorted. The cyborg knew nothing. He should have no problems inventing. This was what he had always wanted. Besides, Cindy had stated numerous times that Jimmy had no creativity. His death shouldn't herald any problems with the invention process.

_**Jimmy? If you're there, say nothing.**_

James smirked at his own joke and vacated the kitchen table. He left the robots their mess and then headed for the lab. Goddard shadowed him, step for step. The cyborg's face was blank and practiced, like he had spent his morning waiting for James to awaken.

"Good morning, master," Goddard said. "I hope you enjoy your work."

He smirked and then split off before the lab's entrance. James glared, balling his fists.

"I still want to know what you meant by that auspicious comment."  


The dog clapped the infernal cymbals and flitted away, leaving James with a sour taste in his mouth. Sneering, James entered the lab and spent another fruitless morning with his hopes failing. In desperation, he broke his old inventions and tried to repair them. He no longer knew how. Simple upgrades were no longer simple. Everything that used to make sense suddenly sprouted nonsense. He remembered, but memories were no good.

"I should let you destroy yourself," Goddard said, walking up behind him. James jumped and then glared.

"I should destroy _you_," he countered.

"You could, if you knew how," Goddard replied. "But you can't access my mainframe anymore. I warned you that I wouldn't let you tamper with me, James. I reserved that privilege for Jimmy."

"Why can't I invent anything?" James said. "Everything I touch fails."

Goddard smiled and tilted his head up so that their eyes met again. "You would never understand."  
**...**

Goddard might have been content to let James ruin himself. He let two weeks pass, where James met deadlines with nothing and, gradually, the companies grew disinterested. A month passed and the company bequeathing the mansion had threatened to take it back unless James met their quota. The other kickbacks, too, gradually were withdrawn. James was growing increasingly desperate and trying everything, including, to Goddard's amusement, drugs to bring about the mental state that might allow him to invent again.

It was after James faced certain homelessness that he asked Goddard again what had catalyzed this change.

"Tell me," Goddard said instead. "I must know this last thing, and then nothing else will matter."

"_What_ thing?" James demanded. "How dare you assume you can-"

"When you killed Cindy, Carl, and Sheen, was Jimmy close enough to follow what transpired?" Goddard asked. "Had he knowledge of every jab, every stab, and every scream?"

"I don't see what this has to do with anything," James snapped. "Jimmy is gone now."

"Tell me," Goddard said. "And then I'll tell you how you can invent again."

"Fine," James huffed, as if making a great concession. "I gave him a play by play after the event and let 

him see the terror that filled their eyes right before I killed them. I let him feel the blood dripping from his fingers and know that it was theirs. And then he screamed...and cried. Is that all?"

"Yes," Goddard said. "It is."

"Now tell me how to invent again!" James cried.

"Use the time machine and go back to a time when Jimmy was still alive and well," Goddard answered. Lying on the table beside him, which James hadn't noticed until just now, was the Brain Drain Helmet. James had enough time to recognize it and protest before Goddard slammed it on his head. The strength bowed his knees and he groaned.

"I loved you, Jimmy," Goddard whispered. "I truly did."

He licked James' face and then switched the Brain Drain helmet on, past Drooling Monkey, into "Practically Comatose".

"A life for a life," he said and then transported himself far away.


	11. Just Dance

Author's Note: I'm fairly certain there are other one-shots I haven't uploaded of this series, so I'm gonna post as many as I can find today. I hope you enjoy. This idea and its spinoffs are probably my favorites.

Just Dance

He attended a school function in disguise. All day, he'd been divided, having tremendous headaches between what the voice dictated and the memories it barely held at bay. The voice didn't think attending a Retroville dance was a good idea. Jimmy was fresh out of ideas and needed to escape the mansion before his patience ran out completely and he did something he'd regret. Goddard had already been electrocuted twice today.

His thought patterns weren't particularly clear, however, and he found himself sitting alone with a pounding headache. The Wizard had altered his hair to blonde and his eyes to charming, mesmerizing silver. He'd shrunken his head so it wasn't as noticeable, and he couldn't concentrate on songs because the pounding headache drove away all conscious thought. He didn't know what he was doing here, torturing himself. The voice didn't have any bright ideas, but the voice was gargled at the moment. Jimmy groaned, resting his head in his hands and hoping someone might come along with a shot gun and put him out of his misery.

"The music's not _that_ bad," Libby scoffed and Jimmy stared up at her. She wore a red dress that clung to her curves, which were much more refined at age thirteen than they had been the last time they had met. Her ample chest was wrapped up in a dress that ended at her ankles; the dress had slits along the side and two spaghetti straps. In addition to it, she had her hair combed out and pushed back with a tiara with a single ruby set inside.

Jimmy didn't respond. He had a moment of mental panic- the Wizard hadn't aged him, so his voice sounded the same. It might be recognizable, if nothing else was.

"Who's the new kid?" Cindy asked and Jimmy's heart clenched.

_**Ignore her. Ignore her. Ignore her.**_

"I don't know," Libby replied. "I've never seen him here before. Ugh...where did Sheen go this time?"

"He's kinda cute," Cindy said. "You go find Sheen and I'll talk to him."

Libby didn't need to be told twice. Scoffing and muttering about incompetent dates, Libby stormed off in red flats. Cindy pulled up a chair and stared at Jimmy. Jimmy's headache redoubled. His eyes were watering from the pain and he groped ineffectually for his cymbals. The last time he'd had a headache like this was when...

The voice tried to block, it didn't quite work, and Jimmy gasped, inundated with an image of Jet Fusion slamming his fist repeatedly into Jimmy's head. Chills broke out along his body and the Retroville Junior High school auditorium/gym/ lunch room swam before his eyes. Cindy snapped her fingers in front of him and he looked up at her. She frowned at him.

"If it's that bad, why don't you call your parents and ask to leave?" she asked. She had no sympathy for him, even without realizing it was her old rival.

"My parents don't know I'm here," he said in a voice made husky by the terrible pain threatening to split his head in two. _**And good riddance**_, the voice added. He had another visceral recollection of Beautiful Gorgeous wrenching his arm behind his back and Eddie punching him in the gut. It was enough to make him shudder and his teeth chatter.

"You left without telling them?" she said. "You needed permission to attend this dance." She gave him a shrewd look.

"Not if you crash it," he said with a faint smile.

"I'm calling your parents," she said and rose to her feet. Then she halted. "Once you tell me who you are."

Jimmy inhaled shakily and tried to compose himself. "I don't live around here. Not anymore."

" 'Anymore'..." she said. "I've never seen you before in my life."

Jimmy laughed hollowly. "I expect you haven't, Vortex."

Cindy stiffened and stared hard at him. He could tell she was slowly beginning to cotton on, not that he was Jimmy Neutron, but that something was amiss. Her eyes narrowed and she put her hands on her hips. Libby hadn't tracked Sheen yet and none of the other party goers were yet privy to this scene.

"How do you know my last name?" she said.

"You're legendary," he said. The voice had approved of this game a while back. It was always entertaining to bait Cindy Vortex. "You're the smartest girl in your class."

"But the way you said it..." she stopped herself and shook her head. "Never mind. I _am_ the smartest girl in my class, but I wasn't always." Her expression darkened. "That honor used to belong to Neutron, before he went insane for no reason and abandoned us all."

A cold, maleficent rage seized Jimmy and he glowered at her. "There was a reason."

Startled, Cindy blinked at him. "What do you mean? How would you know? Who the hell are you?"

Jimmy's headache brought more tears to his eyes and he gasped, unable to maintain eye contact. The voice wanted him to retreat. Jimmy's memories were held at bay by a single tiny thread Jimmy felt certain was going to snap, and he wasn't sure whether he cared or not if Cindy knew his true identity. All in all, the night was going to hell in a hand basket and he'd only been in Retroville for a half hour. It was a new record low.

"Convenient," Cindy snarled. She lifted his head and peered into his eyes. The voice wanted her to release him. Jimmy was in too much pain to protest vehemently.

"You seem so familiar," she said. "And you still haven't told me your name. And your voice..."

"Hey, Cindy!" Sheen called and bounded up to the table. "Hey, Jimmy!"

Jimmy froze. Even the voice did a double take. His headache seemed to lessen by a small degree, so he could stare at Sheen, which Carl, Cindy, and Libby were now doing in spades.

"...What are you talking about?" Cindy said.

"That's not Jimmy," Libby said.

"Sorry," Sheen said, grinning from ear to ear. "Force of habit. Though he does have something very Jimmy-esque about him. Make his head bigger, change his hair and his eyes, and it's definitely him."

"You're delusional," Libby told him.

Cindy wasn't so quick to dismiss it. She appraised Jimmy and whispered, "Neutron?"

"No," he said. "I am not. My name is Robert Provanzano and I'd thank you to remove your hand from my hair." He scoffed and pulled back. She glared and he glared back.

"What brings you here, Robert?" Libby asked.

"Nothing," Jimmy said, now gloomy and growing increasingly concerned Sheen had actually seen through the disguise and was being nonchalant about it. He wouldn't put it past him. Sheen could be awfully keen when he wanted to be. He rose to his feet and Sheen stared at him. Jimmy switched his gaze from Cindy to Sheen and saw the spark of recognition. Sheen knew. Jimmy didn't know how, but he _knew_.

"I have a headache," he said, which, at least, was the truth. "I think I will in fact call my parents and ask for a ride home."

He headed for the bathrooms to use the phone booth and his heart hammered in his chest. The voice was calling him a fool, an idiot desiring a cheap gimmick, and Jimmy couldn't fault it. He stumbled out of the gymnasium and Cindy followed him at a distance. It didn't matter if the gimmick was up. He had no intention of transporting her too.

"Who are you really?" Cindy said.

"And why does it matter to you?" Jimmy answered. "What difference does it make if I'm James Provanzano, Robert Provanzano...or Jimmy Neutron?"

Cindy started. "You are...!"

"I never said that," he said and smiled benignly. "You did."

He clipped the cymbals on his index and thumb. "Good night, Cindy."

She lunged and he stepped aside. Her hands found his collar and she shoved him against the wall. In such close proximity, he'd never be able to transport without bringing her with him. Hissing in irritation, he did what the voice bade and smacked her in the face. The blow was enough to stun her, but her hands were still stuck in his shirt. He pushed her and she released him, mouth agape.

"Tell me," she said. "Tell me!"

"Jimmy Neutron," he said with a small, very sad smile. In the fraction of a second it took for her to process this, he clipped the cymbals together and vanished. He heard, from a distance, her bestial scream of loss and anger. It sent his heart skittering and the voice told him to ignore it. He did, with a heavier heart than usual. The voice was right. This evening had been a mistake.


	12. Tormented

Tormented

The voice was worse than normal. Jimmy was curled in a ball on the sofa and trying to fend it off. Goddard had been assigned other business, but Jimmy sensed him lingering, wanting to berate James but not quite daring. Jimmy didn't care. His eyes watered and his throat had constricted, along with his mouth drying out.

His fists clenched and unclenched and he wanted to be himself, but himself wasn't good enough. After all, he'd gotten himself beaten to within an inch of his life thanks to the League. Jimmy inhaled shakily and started to sob, except, with the restricted air flow, he soon struggled to breathe. Goddard stepped forward, providing his beloved master with oxygen so he could breathe, and Jimmy almost wished he wouldn't. The memory triggers kept coming today, inundating him with visceral sensations and he latched onto his beloved companion.

"Call Cindy, your parents, _anyone_," Goddard pleaded. "You can't face this alone."

"But who," Jimmy said, "would listen to the ravings of a lunatic?"

"Subdue James and you're not insane," Goddard said harshly. "Jimmy, _please_."

"I can't. I can't tell them. They wouldn't understand."

"How do you know? You never even tried."

"I murdered someone!"

"It was self defense!"

"It was _**murder**_!"

He choked on more sobs and Goddard patted him on the back. He didn't want this. Didn't Goddard understand? He wanted none of this. How had he ended up in control of the body? Who said he wanted it? Just because it was his body didn't mean he desired any part of it.

"Your death is hurting them more than anything else you've done," Goddard reminded him. Jimmy uttered a wretched sob and buried his face in his hands. He wanted absolution, or, bereft of that, oblivion.


	13. Hot Ashes for Dreams

Hot Ashes for Dreams

It was a cold, rainy day. Rain lashed the windows overlooking his vast, empty estate, and Jimmy's mind was his own for the day. James hated the rain. He loathed the very sound of it. For some reason Jimmy couldn't quite fathom, rain grated James almost as deeply as idiots, and he refused to be anywhere near the front when it poured. Usually, he found an excuse to work in the lab and thus, Jimmy never returned to the surface. Today, there weren't any imminent projects, he had no particular inspiration, and there was no reason to descend into the inner sanctum. This left Jimmy, standing in front of his bedroom window and staring at the rain.

The glass chilled his fingertips and he brushed them along the smooth pane. Jimmy had changed into a white silk shirt, open at the chest, and white pants. The singular reflection looked woeful and he bit his lip. It'd been a while since he'd seen the body. Himself. The body. Was there a difference?

It didn't belong to him wholly. James commanded it nearly all the time, except the brief interludes where Jimmy jumped in. Goddard would have lunged at him for the chance, but James had sent Goddard on a useless errand. Jimmy was alone in the mansion, which was how James preferred it. Jimmy stared at himself. He was, dare he say it, a trifle lonely.

It wasn't that he missed his family and friends. He knew he'd left Retroville for their benefit. No one wanted an insane genius around to destroy them. And also...the chasm. The horrible emotional chasm stretched before him, threatening to force him face his worst moment ever. His parents would never forgive him murdering the man, even if self defense could be argued. Jimmy held himself responsible for it.

His phone rang and he stared at it. James would have ignored it. James, however, was behaving like he'd left the house, locked the door, and had no intention of returning his messages until far later. He couldn't even sense him except as a strange blankness in his mind. Scowling, Jimmy waited for the phone to stop ringing. It didn't. In fact, as if to particularly vex him, it continued ringing four or five times.

He groaned and grabbed it off the nightstand. Everything in James' room was either black or shades of grey. Therefore, he was the brightest fixture in there, at the moment.

"This is ridiculous," a far away voice declared. Jimmy's gut clenched. Static distorted it and it was older, older than Jimmy remembered, but it had also been two years since he'd met them in person. He wouldn't even count the times he'd watched them from afar.

"It's not ridiculous," a female imperious voice said. "I know you're there. Carl and Sheen have been monitoring the news and you'd be surprised how often an Italian boy genius comes up."

"I'm not a child here," Jimmy said sullenly. "And I have no idea to whom you're referring."  
James would have approved of this game. Jimmy's stomach churned and he swallowed back bile. Anxiety made his hair stand on end and he shuffled to the bed in case his knees weakened.

"Oh really?" Cindy said archly. "James Provanzano."

Jimmy dropped the phone onto the bed in shock. James blipped a faint 'hmm' and went back to sleep. Jimmy would have glared at him, if James were possessed of a physical body.

"I know you can hear me!" she shrieked. "I know you're there, Jimmy Neutron!"

He slammed the phone on the receiver so hard it cracked. Panting, he stared at himself in the mirror. Tomorrow, he'd have the number changed. Today, it was too close for comfort. As if to comfort it, the phone rang again and he yanked it out of the wall. This ensured any of his employers couldn't reach him either, but they always had his cell phone number, along with Vox's if he was so busy he didn't notice the phone ringing.

Shaking, he stared at the odious phone and grimaced. He hadn't proved their hypothesis, but his reaction hadn't disproved it either. Damn Cindy with her perspicacity. Didn't she know when to give up?

It had to be after hours in Retroville. Someone should head to sleep instead of wasting their time belaboring the past. And...He stared out the window and watched the rain fall. It was so strange being himself again. He didn't know what to do now that he was. The phone rang and he jumped, but it was only in his mind.

And the rain poured outside. James Provanzano hated it. Jimmy Neutron had never cared, one way or another, for the rain.


	14. Mother's Day

A/N: The fluff! It finally worked! I set out to make something fluffy and it came out that way!

Some background: this takes place in an alternate universe where James has been cloned out of Jimmy's body for a multitude of reasons. A year has passed since James got his own body and since then, Jimmy and James have become friends. Only recently has James been invited to live in the house and even then, he doesn't get along with Jimmy's mother or Goddard, who is now a cyborg humanoid rather than a dog.

In the past, James and Judy were hostile toward each other, although James's default reaction to a perceived threat is to immediately attack. Also, since James's birthday is the catalyst event, it makes sense why it wouldn't be celebrated.

One last thing- this site is being absolutely retarded with review replies and giving me 404 errors. So it might be best to send me a pm if you need something clarified.

* * *

Mother's Day

"It's Mother's Day," Jimmy said. James stared blankly. Jimmy was holding a small, wrapped present with a red bow on top.

"You know, the holiday where everyone honors their mothers and-"

"I was aware of the holiday and its commercialism," James said. His tone cut through Jimmy. "I was unaware this had something to do with me."

"She's your mother too," Jimmy said. He fought the urge to fidget. He ought to have brought this up a few weeks ago with James, but James refused to listen. There was an important deadline with the medicine company and if James missed it, he'd be in big trouble. Between the play, attempting to have a social life, and inventing, James barely had any time. And now, here they were, May 8th, with only one Neutron son holding a present.

"We're not getting into this argument again," James said.

"No, we're not," Jimmy said. "You're getting her a present."

James's mouth dropped for a second and then he snapped it back into place. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," Jimmy said. "She expects a present from you."

James muttered something in reply Jimmy couldn't repeat in polite company. It involved something Jimmy had much rather not think about and his former alter ego turned to face the windows. His fists were balled and he refused to look at Jimmy. Jimmy gritted his teeth. Every year he'd been here, it was customary to serve his mother breakfast in bed. James's hesitation was eating up precious time.

"I know it's not in your heart to be generous," Jimmy said. "But you could attempt to show some human decency. She let you into our house."

"After your father argued for it," James retorted. "Should I thank her for no longer considering me an 'it'? For occasionally cooking me things I like in an attempt to curry favor?"

Jimmy sighed. "She wants us to be a family, James."

"No," James said and turned to face him again. "You don't get it, Jimmy. You are her son."

Jimmy folded his arms across his chest. "And you're not, by that logic."

"Exactly," James concurred. "So my best possible place would be in the lab and away from her."

Jimmy pinched his nostril bridge. "Perhaps for one day, you could widen your tunnel vision."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" he huffed.

"It might not mean much to you, but my mother would really like it if you treated her like a mother rather than an enemy," Jimmy said.

"How do you know?" James said. "How do you know she's not dreaming right now of my moving back to Italy?"

"James…" Jimmy said slowly, as the thought occurred to him. "Do you _want _her to reject you?"

"No," James sniffed. "Of course not."

He stared at Osamu the cat, who was curled up in a ball on his bed. Jimmy's heart picked up a beat. There was an issue here, if Jimmy had time to unravel it. On the plus side, at least he knew he wouldn't have this battle royal when it came to be Father's Day. Jimmy shoved the thought aside- it wasn't useful right now.

"I know you don't really want to return to Italy," Jimmy said lightly. "And I know that, while embarrassed by my father on occasion, you value his affection and feel accepted by him. Why does my mother continue to be 'my' mother and not yours?"

"You don't see it," James said, sounding exasperated. "Fine. I knew you'd ask for evidence sooner or later."

"Evidence…?" Jimmy inquired. James ducked underneath the bed and produced a photo album. It included pictures from the recent Neutron family reunion. He plowed through the pages and then came upon the ones of their family in particular. Jimmy started to ask James what exactly had piqued him and then his gaze fell upon the way his mother stood in every single picture. Every time James was near her, she stiffened and almost seemed to protect Jimmy. Hugh was relaxed and comfortable around both sons, but Judy remained either next to Jimmy or, when forced, obviously displeased.

"Do I want her to reject me?" James repeated. Very quietly, he said, "No, I don't. But she's rejecting me, even if she isn't consciously aware of it."

He shoved the album back underneath the bed. "Don't force your holiday on me, Jimmy. And I won't force you to celebrate my birthday."

Jimmy was at a loss for words. James was stiff, refusing to look at him, and he realized too late he'd trodden upon a very sensitive topic. He put his hand on James's shoulder and while James didn't shove it off, he also didn't react to it.

"Go be with your mother," James said quietly. "You deserve it."

"She wants you there," he persisted. "I know what the photographs reveal, but Mom is trying. But it's hard for her to open up to you when you won't open up to anyone but me."

Jimmy smiled bitterly. "And even then, it's like squeezing blood out of a stone."

"And if I attend your little 'event'?" James said, tone clipped. "Will you stop needling me?"

"Try to be on your best behavior," Jimmy advised. "For one day in the year, at least."

James grimaced and reluctantly nodded. With that in place, Jimmy left him to brood and went downstairs. Goddard was waiting to help him prepare breakfast (since he and his father had discovered they were hopeless in the kitchen without Goddard). As he walked, he had a brief thought about James not celebrating his birthday…and then it disappeared as Goddard yanked him into the kitchen.

"Will he or won't he?" Goddard said. He was scrambling eggs and mixing fresh orange juice.

"He will," Jimmy said. Hugh was washing the dishes and Goddard produced a third arm out of his chest to stop one from breaking.

"Let me do that," Goddard said.

"But we're supposed to help," Hugh protested.

"It's the thought that counts, right?" Jimmy said weakly.

"I'll tag along," Goddard said and then smiled coldly. "It'd be worth it to see James profoundly uncomfortable."

* * *

James didn't know why they insisted on him being in the room while Goddard served Judy breakfast in bed. James was attempting to be civil, brooding on Jimmy's words. Was it because he pushed her away that she pushed him away? Or was it something else? It could be a manifestation of his insecurities again, although he'd prefer not to think so. It'd be terribly obvious otherwise and a weakness he couldn't tolerate.

"Thank you, Jimmy, Goddard," Judy said and smiled. "And Hugh."

"I helped by not getting in the way," Hugh said brightly. James was half behind Hugh and observing her.

"James?" she said curiously.

"I didn't help," he said. "So you don't have to thank me."

Her lips twisted. "I see."

Jimmy shot James a nasty look. "What he means is that he has a present for you. He just hasn't given it to you yet."

James glared back. How long were they continuing this farce? All day? He resumed a stoic expression and adopted his persona, which he knew Judy didn't like. He didn't want to deal with this on a personal level.

"Oh, is that so?" she said.

"Yes," he lied. He fought the urge to kick Jimmy in the shins.

"Can I talk to you in private, James?" she said. Goddard smirked and James, knowing Goddard could see it behind his back, flipped the cyborg off. It prompted a snicker.

"Are you sure, Mom?" Jimmy said.

"Yes, I'm sure," she said.

"We'll just get started on all the chores you normally do," Hugh said.

Judy groaned. "Maybe you should leave those for Goddard and the cleaning robots."

"It's not that bad," Jimmy promised. "We won't set the kitchen on fire this time."

James gawked. Judy waved them away and Jimmy, casting one last glance upon James, shut the door behind him. Now feeling tremendously awkward, James approached the bed. Hostility welled within him. Whenever he felt threatened, he went on the attack. That way, no one could hurt him.

But Jimmy had told him to behave.

"There's no present for me, is there?" she said.

"What makes you think that?" he said.

"Jimmy roped you into this," she said and pushed the tray to the side. She folded her arms across her chest. "And for one thing, you never call me 'Mother' unless you're lying to me."

There was no point in denying it, so he didn't. He shrugged. "I'm sure they have a wonderful day planned for you, provided nothing catches fire."

"I'm not trying to be your enemy," she said. "You're the one who starts it, every time."

James scowled. "Jimmy told me to be on my best behavior."

"I don't know what you expect out of me," she said quietly. "You open up to Hugh on occasion and the only person you really talk to is Jimmy."

James shrugged again.

"We got off on the wrong foot and I'm sorry," she said. "I would like to consider you my son, if you would consider me your mother."

In a carefully neutral voice, James said, "Jimmy is your son."

"And what does that make you?" she replied.

"An interloper," he answered. She opened her mouth to object and he continued. "You can't deny I'm not supposed to be here."

"But you are," she said. "And I've accepted that."

"Have you?" he said sharply. "You seemed to skirt around introducing me at the family reunion."

"It takes some getting used to," she admitted. "But I'm not trying to hurt you. Not intentionally."

He folded his arms across his chest and stared at her. She flung aside the covers and stood. As if subconsciously sensing danger, James backed up. She smiled sadly.

"You're afraid of me?"

"Don't be ridiculous," he snapped. "I have more important things to do than-"

"You get frightened and you run away," she said. "The last time you let me touch you was that night-"

"I know about that night," James snarled. He couldn't help himself. She'd set him square on the defensive. It took him a second to recover and remind himself of Jimmy's instructions. He couldn't let her get to him.

"I never used the information against you," she said softly. "I never used your vulnerability. Why won't you trust me?"

"Why should I?" he huffed. "You're not my mother."

"I'm Jimmy's mother, but his father is also yours," she said.

"Biologically, no," he said. "Emotionally, yes."

Judy removed a book from the nightstand and held it up for his inspection. It was a book about multiple personalities, specifically one that focused on multiple personalities created out of traumatic experiences. His face lost all expression and the color drained too. Somehow, this was almost more threatening than her approaching him. Someone else could tell her about him?

"You won't let me in," she said. "So I'm trying to find another way."

"And is that book helpful?" he said, in clipped tones.

"It'd be a lot more helpful if you confided in me," she said.

"I suppose in an ideal world, this would happen on Mother's Day and then birds would fly over to tweet their pleasure at our reconciliation," he said.

She glared. "You don't have to be sarcastic."

James glared back. "You really expect me to tell you what's bothering me."

"It would be a start, yes," she said.

They stared at each other for a moment. James wasn't going to back down, now that she'd called his bluff. He also wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of a response. While this wasn't his 'best behavior', at least he wasn't outright attacking her. Jimmy couldn't really complain about this, could he? Well, James supposed he could, in the way that James often did exactly what Jimmy didn't like him to do for no apparent reason to him.

"In the spirit of Mother's Day, I will tell you one thing," he said. "And then you will determine how you'll use it."

She grimaced. "James, I'm not using information like a weapon. I'm a mother, not a monster."

"In answer to one of your previous questions, 'yes'. It's up to you to find out which question I'm answering," he said. "May I be excused?"

"Yes," she said. She put down the book and went back to her breakfast with a thoughtful expression on her face.

James headed toward the door.

"One more thing," she said and he grimaced. He turned back.

"What?" he said.

"Why?" she said.

"Why what?" he retorted.

"Why are you afraid of me?"

There was a painful silence. James hadn't expected her to get the answer that quickly. He folded his arms across his chest.

"I already gave you one piece of information," he said. "By my standards, that was generous."

"No," she corrected. "You repeated part of our conversation back at me. You didn't tell me anything I didn't already know or wouldn't have inferred through body language."

Stiff now, his skin crawling, he remarked quietly, "There are two Neutron genius genes, aren't they?"

She smiled humorlessly. "One from each parent, yes."

"Damn it."

She stared pointedly at him. Her eyebrows arched and she lorded over her scrambled eggs and toast with jam. Goddard's orange juice remained untouched for the moment.

"You didn't answer me. Why are you afraid of me?"

Give her an inch…James had gone entirely stiff, his whole body feeling like he'd had it crushed between cement blocks. His throat clenched and his fists balled. Jimmy's words reverberated in his head and kept him from making a caustic reply. Several moments passed. His mouth had gone dry.

"You want the truth?" he whispered.

"It would be nice for a change," she said.

"And once I give it to you, I'll be off the hook for the entire day?" he replied.

She gave him a measuring look and another awkward silence passed. Then, slowly, she inclined her head.

"I have problems with any type of intimacy," he said. "Anything that involves emotional components as well as physical."

"Because you're afraid of getting hurt," she said softly.

"I don't have to answer that," he said, his lips tight. "Happy Mother's Day."

With that, shaking now, he opened the door and then shut it, while he really would have preferred slamming it. As he'd anticipated, Goddard was nearby and James popped away before he kicked the damn thing and hurt himself instead.

* * *

Although Jimmy would have preferred it James had been along, it had still been a satisfying Mother's Day. After dinner, his mother had disappeared- Hugh thought it was to have some alone time and read her book. Jimmy wasn't sure, since James had also disappeared, earlier in the day. Goddard could find either of them if he wanted to- he had reported James was in the lab earlier, but he might not be there now, depending on his mood.

In order to feel like he was doing something, Jimmy washed the dishes while Goddard took out the garbage. Maybe next year would be different. He'd have to ask Jamie how his Mother's Day had gone, assuming Jamie hadn't done the same thing James had and vanished too.

* * *

She waited outside the lab for James to acknowledge her. He did after about ten minutes, either showing he'd been deep within his work or determined to ignore her. He appeared beside the lab's former security- the cymbals had essentially rendered it inert, although there was other security she didn't know about.

"I thought you said I was off the hook," James said.

"I brought you something," she said. Confusion showed on his face and then he shook his head. As always, he replaced his expression with a mask.

"It's Mother's Day."

"I think this is a bit overdue," she said and produced two things from behind her back. One of them was a card and the other a small box wrapped with light blue and black, his favorite colors. The confusion reappeared and he frowned.

"What is this?"

"It'll be three years in November," she said quietly. James's jaw dropped. Gingerly, he reached for the card. His fingers were trembling and he very carefully opened it, like it was fine china.

"No one's ever wished _me _a happy birthday before," he whispered.

"It didn't feel right to force you to acknowledge me as a mother when I've never acknowledged your birthday," she said.

"I…but…" James, for once, looked absolutely thunderstruck. Very gently, he placed the card back into the envelope and tucked the envelope into the lab coat. She placed the box in his hands and he unwrapped it with the same tenderness he had shown the card. In his hands, he held a snow globe with the Roman coliseum in it.

"I…" James's eyes teared up and he swallowed hard.

"No one has ever given you a present for your birthday, either," she murmured.

Putting the snow globe into the other lab pocket, he stared at her for a moment. Then, his lips twitching, he surprised her by hugging her. For someone who almost never initiated physical contact, she was nearly bowled over by his affection.

"Thanks…" he whispered. "Mom."

She hugged him back. "You're welcome, James."

He smiled at her. "Happy Mother's Day."

She stroked his hair. "Happy Mother's Day," she agreed.


	15. Chemical Reaction

Author's Note: This was meant as an updated companion piece to Catalyst, settling on what I now consider canon Jimmy and James being separate people within the same body. Also, I still have no clue why James hates the rain. None.

Chemical Reaction

There were times they communicated, but not quite the way either desired. For James, existing meant navigating between being on his own completely or being subjugated. And since he couldn't be on his own without playing a role, he chafed at the restrictions. Jimmy might think he was alternatively abusive and cruel, but it wasn't entirely his fault. He was, after all, only a couple months old.

And the more he battered at Jimmy, the more time James had on the surface. James was afraid to break the mold, afraid to tell everyone who he really was, while at the same time trying to help Jimmy. His selfish and selfless desires kept conflicting- he was designed to help Jimmy, but at the same time, he wanted to help himself too. He was also aware he didn't belong there, that anyone with access to Jimmy's lab might find a way to eradicate him unless he took the upper hand.

The catalyst process slowly rolled downhill, except to Jimmy and James, it felt like it had stuck in the mud.

James stared out the window and braced himself. He hated the rain. It sent deep, involuntary shudders through him and he knew he had to face it, because Jimmy had sunken again. Of all the times for Jimmy to be doing what James wanted…

James shuddered. At least he'd lopped off that ridiculous hair before it'd driven him mad. Even so…James didn't know how much longer he could maintain this farce. And this rain…

"Jimmy!" his mother called. "You're going to be late!"

James inhaled shakily. It was just a little water. There was no one lurking. He could face it and come out unscathed.

He was still continuing with the pretense of school until he could construct a better solution. That meant facing Jimmy's friends and trying to maintain a balance between himself and Jimmy. He wasn't good at it and he was starting to slip through the cracks. Jimmy's friends grated on his nerves, like this rain. But if he weren't Jimmy Neutron, there'd be nothing here for him. There would be…

"Jimmy!" Judy said and poked her head inside. "Oh, you're dressed. Why haven't you gone?"

He couldn't tell her the rain petrified him. It was ridiculous, a feeble fear from a weaker mind. And yet…he sighed jaggedly. Jimmy had Goddard as a confidante. He had no one.

"Why are you wearing black again?" she said. "You've been wearing black a lot lately."

"I like black," he said curtly. "I'll be out shortly."

"You're talking strangely, too," she said. "Are you feeling all right? You haven't been the same since that Saturday a few months ago."

"I'm fine, _Mom_," he said, trying to inject Jimmy's inflection. The word felt foreign.

Eying the window warily, he shuddered and flicked the hood up on his slicker. He wouldn't melt when the rain touched him. And yet…he thought there was a memory, something that had happened to Jimmy involving rain and…

Shaking again, he swallowed a lump in his throat.

"Jimmy," Judy said and put a hand on his shoulder. "You know, you can talk to me if you need something. If anything's upsetting you…"

"Don't touch me," he said automatically.

"What?" she said.

Oh. Jimmy wouldn't have said that. He forced a smile and it ached. "Sorry, I must still be half asleep. I'll talk to you afterschool."

"Maybe you should stay home…" she said and touched his forehead. He gritted his teeth and bore it. Her hand was smooth and soft and he thought Jimmy stirred. He squashed him down.

"No temperature," she said. "But you are acting odd. And your eyes…the color is wrong."

He stepped closer to the window to contemplate his reflection. Jimmy's eyeshade, from all the pictures he had seen, was darker and calmer. His eye color, a piercing electric blue, had not even a hint of Jimmy's hue. How Goddard hadn't noticed and commented upon it yet, he didn't know.

"Have you been experimenting on yourself again?" she said. "You've been spending a lot of time in the lab."

"You know, you're right," he said. "I've been experimenting on myself. I should have warned you. I'll be back later."

"Jimmy," she said and hugged him tightly. "Your father and I are worried about you. You've been rather moody lately."

"I'm _fine_, Mother," he said and then she stared at him. He was striking out today. "Mom. I mean. Mom."

"Maybe I can drive you to school and we can talk-"

"I don't want to talk to you and I'm done with this insipid q and a!" James snapped. Pulling away, he flung his backpack over his shoulder, glared, and stomped down the stairs. Jimmy was somewhere in here, just not responding.

"Jimmy!" she exclaimed and dashed down the stairs after him. She whirled him around and stared into his eyes. He glared back.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, but we didn't raise you to be disrespectful!" she said.

"You didn't raise me at all," he retorted. He trembled and jerked his shoulders out of her reach. "And, as you stated earlier, I'm going to be late."

"You've been moody like this ever since that Saturday," she said. "Jimmy, what happened? What's _wrong_?"

"I'm not Jimmy!" he snapped. "My name is _James_ and you will not treat me like an invalid."

"And I won't be treated like an underling!" she said. They stared at each other and he gritted his teeth. Once she saw through his disguise, he'd be cast aside. Of course, his veneer was thin, without any cues how he was supposed to behave and feeling pressured to be someone he didn't even like. Jimmy couldn't have been that great if he'd succumbed so easily.

James shuddered. The rain continued to pound against the windows and he gritted his teeth.

"I swear it's like you're a completely different person."

"Think what you will," he said coldly. "You're in my way."

"This isn't over," she said. Her eyes narrowed. "James Isaac Neutron, until I get to the root of this, you're grounded."

"Ground me," James said, shrugging. "I don't care."

"And your father is boarding up the lab," she said. James whirled, glaring.

"No," he said. "No, he's not."

She folded her arms across her chest. "You've been spending too much time in there lately. I think it's gotten to you."

He didn't have to answer to anyone in the lab. He didn't have to pretend to be Jimmy Neutron or anyone else. Over his dead body would she deprive him of the lab. Even if his father boarded it up, there were entrances within the house. She couldn't possibly know about all of them. So let her have this minor victory. Maybe he ought to consider vacating Retroville…but things hadn't gotten so bad yet. And maybe Jimmy would come back…but if he came back, would there be a place for him?

"Think what you will," he said coldly. "You're making me later for school."

"I'm driving you," she said. "And we're going to talk about what's going on."

"You can talk," he said condescendingly. "I'm not going to answer."

"Jimmy!" she snapped.

"James!" he retorted. "I'm not Jimmy!" A split second later, he realized his mistake. "Anymore."

She gave him a very odd look and he mentally cursed. He had overstepped again. He trembled, having a half image of Jimmy as a hamster and his mother about to whack him off the windowsill. He was supposed to be a genius. How had he managed to bungle everything? And…at what point should he care?

She shut the door and stood in front of it. "You're not going anywhere until I get some answers."

"I don't have to answer you," he countered.

"Yes, you do," she said. "I'm your mother."

No, she was Jimmy's mother, not his. But replying to that would open a can of worms James didn't want to touch. A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed hard. She didn't need to know there were two people in Jimmy's body.

"It'll be a cold day in hell before I answer you," he said.

"Oh, I can wait," she said. "Can you?"

His phone buzzed and he answered. Carl's anxious face peered back and James hissed. One of Jimmy's insipid friends- he couldn't stand them. More and more, he felt trapped, constrained by Jimmy's agenda and Jimmy's life.

"Jimmy, what's going on?" Carl asked.

"I've been detained," James said, wishing he could punch the rotund boy out. "I'll be a moment longer. Don't wait up. I'll see you at school."

Before Carl had a chance to respond, James hung up. Judy stared.

"You've been so cold lately," Judy said. "And formal."

_**Maybe it's because I'm not really Jimmy? Hmm. There's a thought.**_

"It's nothing to be concerned about," he said. "You need not worry."

"There's another thing," she said. "You've been holding yourself differently. You're very stiff and you jump whenever someone touches you."

Damn, she was observant. "Practicing for a part in the school play."

"I wasn't born yesterday," she said. "Carl and Sheen said on the hover car ride home, you were very rude and you've been like that with everyone lately."

"Traitors," James muttered. A foreign sentiment, probably Jimmy's, welled within him. _**Oh, it's you. Care to weigh in, host?**_

There was no answer. James suppressed a hysterical laugh. He'd probably defend them, like he always did. Jimmy, the patron saint.

"We're worried about you," she said. "We haven't seen you smile in months."

"You have better things to be concerned about," he retorted and stared at the door. He could always run for the kitchen door and hope she didn't reach it before him. Then again, he was heading for the dubious safety of school and there, he'd have to play in front of a much bigger audience. Carl and Sheen weren't as astute as Jimmy's mother (although all three were beneath him), but they did notice things on occasion.

"You're my _son_," she said. There were the beginnings of tears in her eyes. "Jimmy, _please_. Tell me what's wrong."

_**Yeah, host. Tell her what's wrong. What's the matter, host? Afraid? What could you have possibly done that you can't tell her about?**_

James was shoved aside and shunted into the back without warning. Transitions weren't always smooth- they were usually abrupt and disorienting. James couldn't see or hear and he shook in the back, feeling like he was on the brink of vanishing. He swallowed the urge to panic. Jimmy would let him back in. He had to let him back in. He was dependent on him.

James waited, with nothing to occupy his time aside from his own treacherous thoughts. Maybe he would have to leave Retroville. The strain was proving too much. First, he'd try isolation. Jimmy might not agree, but if he didn't, James would override him. Otherwise…he might end up losing everything. He didn't trust Jimmy, he didn't trust anyone…and he couldn't afford to take risks.

Trapped within the system, if it could be called that with only two occupants, he had no sense of time or what was happening to the body. He faded from consciousness, not because he wanted to, but because the system jerked him back.

* * *

When he came to again, it was night and he was in the lab, with no recollection of the entire day. Something had to give. This was ridiculous. James hated the time gaps, the spaces where he had no idea what had happened and couldn't control anything. He needed to be in control and needed to be someone.

_**Any more tricks up your sleeve? **_He snapped. Losing the entire day pissed him off.

_What have you been saying to my friends?_

_**You don't need them. They've been holding you back. Your parents too are an obstacle.**_

_What are you talking about?_

_**You need to get away from them. They prevent you from inventing and ultimate success.**_

_I love my parents…and my friends-okay, I admit they can be a little weird, but still._

_**If they loved you, they would support you and allow you to spend more time in the lab. They're jealous of your potential.**_

_I don't think so…although Mom did tell me she wants me to spend less time in the lab._

James scoffed and looked around him. The lab was much neater than it had been when James had inherited it; it no longer looked like a cave with science. He was in the process of sterilizing it and eliminating all the trap doors and alternate entrances Carl and Sheen were so fond of. The security also had to be upgraded, but James would save that for the moment. In the corner of the room, Goddard was watching him with an almost human focus, as if condemning him.

"What do you want, mutt?" James growled.

"You're not Jimmy."

The insight sent chills through him and he whirled on him. Stiff with apprehension, he said, "You're wrong."

"Your brain waves are off," Goddard said. "I've noticed this for some time now."

"You can't prove I'm not him," James said. "Even assuming I'm not, which I am."

He folded his arms across his chest and tried to maintain his cool. Adopting an almost bored persona, he sat down in Jimmy's chair and started up Vox. There were blueprints left to work on, blueprints he had stored on Vox and password encoded so no one could steal them. Naturally, he changed the password every day, sometimes multiple times a day. Verifying that everything was in order, he picked the likeliest candidate. And Goddard hopped onto his lap.

"So the question becomes- who are you? And why are you in my master's brain?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," James said. He ignored Goddard; Jimmy was lethargic in the back of his brain and had no idea what was going on. James wasn't likely to enlighten him, either.

"You've been calling yourself 'James'," the dog persisted, jumping and forcing James to acknowledge him by standing on the keyboard. Annoyed, James knocked him off.

"I can sedate you if need be."

"I can shut you off if need be," James retorted. "Why is everyone cross examining me today?"

"You are not my master," Goddard replied, refusing to be ignored. He hovered in front of James's line of vision. "I only obey Jimmy."

"Bully for you, then," James snapped. "You can't prove beyond a reasonable doubt I'm anyone other than Jimmy Neutron and you're in my way, so bug off, you annoying little robot thing."

"What do you want with Jimmy, James?"

"I want to be left alone!" James roared and knocked him out of midair. Goddard recovered, managing to glare without possessing sentient attributes, like a suitable expression. At least, James perceived hostility.

"Tell me what happened to Jimmy."

"No," James hissed. "Leave me alone."

"Have you hurt him?" Goddard queried. "Sometimes, I register distress. What are you doing to him?"

"Nothing, damn you!" James snarled. "Why the hell does everyone keep treating me like the villain?"

"Because the minute you showed up, Jimmy started withdrawing from everyone and spending more time in the lab," Goddard pointed out. "And you've been lashing out at people."

"It's none of your business what I do." James folded his arms across his chest and glared sullenly.

"As long as you're in my master's body, it's my business."

"Then why don't you tell everyone?" James exclaimed, spreading his arms wide. "About how Jimmy Neutron lost his mind and now there's someone else taking up residence in it?"

"Because I would never betray Jimmy's trust like that," Goddard answered. "You're awfully defensive."

"You're the one cross-examining me and you dare call me defensive?" James growled. "I don't have to answer to you or anyone else."

"You're certainly not answering to your mother," Goddard replied.

"She's not my mother."

Anger burned in his chest and he tried to recall where Jimmy might have left a shut off switch. If only he could get his hands on something more substantial, something to punish Goddard and discourage him from examining his motives. If only he could permanently disable him…but Jimmy would never agree. Shaking, torn between what he should be doing and what he was, defending his existence, he reached to run his fingers through his hair and stopped himself.

"Jimmy forbade me to play back his recitation of what happened a few months ago," Goddard said. James didn't trust himself to speak.

"But it's related to you."

"I hate you," James said through a constricted throat. "I hate you, I hate Jimmy's parents, and I hate his friends. I order you to leave me alone."

"I don't take orders from you."

James pounded the keyboard and hit a switch underneath it. Goddard fell into sleep mode and James relaxed minutely. He was shaking and he turned back to Vox. Inventing should take the edge off. Goddard knew. Goddard could tell if he weren't so loyal to Jimmy. And why should he be, when Jimmy wasn't around? James's teeth chattered. In the back of his mind, he began formulating a plan on how to escape.

* * *

James refused dinner. He also refused the subsequent breakfast and lunch. Goddard sprang out of sleep mode during the night and appeared with a tray of food around noon.

"What do you want?" James said warily.

"Even if you're not my master, you're in his body," Goddard said. "You need to eat."

"You're going to tell everyone, aren't you?" James said.

"I told you I wasn't," Goddard repeated.

"Why shouldn't you? Jimmy's not around," James said. "What does it matter your loyalty to an absent figure?"

"I would go to the ends of the earth for Jimmy," Goddard stated. "I would give my life for him."

"How very noble," James drawled. "An empty sentiment."

Goddard placed the tray in front of James and stared at him. James stared back, nonplussed.

"I can't figure you out," Goddard said. "You're verbally abusive, highly defensive, and cruel. But you came from Jimmy, so you must share _some _attributes. So why are you acting like this?"

James didn't respond. He briefly wondered whether Goddard had poisoned his meal and then decided he probably hadn't. Drugging it, however, seemed likely. It appeared simple fare- a grilled cheese sandwich with a Raspberry Flurp. His lips twitched.

"Jimmy likes Purple Flurps, not Raspberry," James said.

"I've seen you drinking Raspberry," Goddard responded.

"Why are you trying to appease me?" James said, folding his arms across his chest. He wished he could divine mood, but Goddard was unreadable. And Jimmy was, as usual, being stoic.

"Why are you analyzing a simple drink choice?" Goddard countered.

"Why shouldn't I?" James said. "You're already opposed to me. How do I know you haven't altered its contents?"

"We can add 'paranoid' to that list," Goddard said.

"What if I refuse to eat anything?" James said, scowling. "What are you going to do to me?"

There was a brief pause. "I'm not trying to poison you, James."

"You want Jimmy to return," James said and waved his hand, casting aside Goddard's argument. "You would go to any lengths for him, as you've stated."

"Yes, but you're in his body," Goddard pointed out. "I wouldn't want to harm him."

"Unless you could ensure you could harm me and not him," James retaliated.

There was a brief pause while Goddard cocked his head to contemplate him and James fumed. Vox's screen indicated a call and James ignored it. It was probably Jimmy's parents trying to call him back up. James's resentment mounted and he knocked the food to the floor. His eyes flashed and his lower lip curled.

"I don't want it," James said. "I'm not hungry." His stomach growled, indicating the lie.

"You have to eat," Goddard said. "You're a growing boy."

"I don't need you to mollycoddle me," James snapped. "I can take care of myself."

"You haven't eaten anything in the last 24 hours," Goddard answered. "You'll make yourself very sick."

"I'm not hungry, damn it!" James snapped.

"Why are you so determined to be difficult? I'm only trying to help," Goddard protested.

"You're only trying to help Jimmy! I don't need you, you goddamn mutt!" James snapped and kicked him. Startled, Goddard flew a couple feet before righting himself.

"I will not let you hurt my master."

As a matter of fact, kicking Goddard made his foot throb, but he wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. Stewing, he nudged the Flurp with his foot. He still wanted it, but he'd wait until Goddard was gone before taking it. Furious, he blocked Vox's call and started back on the blueprints.

A few minutes later, he heard the telltale blades announcing Goddard's departure. He picked up the Flurp, scowled at the dent in it, and waited until the soda stopped fizzing before opening it. Wherever the mutt had gone, hopefully he'd be gone for a while. James had work to do- never mind his stomach cramping from not eating. In a perverse way, James was pleased. It meant a minor victory.

* * *

Hours passed. James had finished the prototype, with Jimmy stirring in the back, and turned on Vox to see what the monitors were showing. On screen, Cindy Vortex was making an eloquent plea to speak to Jimmy; what passed for eloquence with her, at any rate. James was tempted to shut the computer off and instead stared, trying to figure out what made Jimmy so intriguing to her. There was a dull ache, like a phantom limb, when he thought about Jimmy's connection to the outside world. He could never have that.

"James."

James turned, staring at Goddard. The dog had used his speakers to get his attention.

"You didn't call me Jimmy."

"I know better," Goddard answered.

"What do you want?" he asked.

Goddard sat on his haunches and stared at him. "The same thing I wanted before. To know who you are and why you feel the need to attack everyone."

"I'm not telling you anything," James answered, studying Cindy. Her desperation was amusing. And yet…

"Let us assume for a moment you aren't some evil entity heisting my master's brain but an actual person with thoughts and feelings," Goddard said. "And let us assume further you're actually a child instead of the way you really behave, like a vicious caustic adult who inflicts pain wherever he can."

"I'm not an experiment," James said. His eyes hadn't moved from Vox's screen.

"Jimmy tells me you berate him," Goddard continued. "That you're malicious and undermine all his relationships."

James shrugged. "I do what I can."

"Why?" Goddard snapped. "Why are you doing this? What does this have to do with what happened that Saturday?"

"You're the one with all the answers," he shot back. "You tell me, mutt."

"I think you came out of whatever hurt Jimmy," Goddard answered. "That's why you shove everyone away. But it doesn't explain why you feel the need to berate him or why you won't tell anyone the truth."

"Why should I?" James retorted. "Why should anyone know? Who said anyone has the right to know? It's none of your goddamn business, mutt, and you should keep your snout out of it if you know what's good for you."

"You're part of Jimmy. There must be something worth redeeming."

James didn't reply. He shut off Vox's monitor and reached for the switch underneath. Goddard fell into sleep mode immediately. Damn it, he hated that damn dog. How did he know how to get under his skin? And maybe…maybe James didn't think there was anything worth redeeming, in either case.

Jimmy's parents were calling him. He could tell without answering the phone. Ignoring them, he sought out the lab cot. Maybe if he shut his eyes and hoped hard enough, his parents and Jimmy's world would vanish. James didn't really want to have to take matters into his own hands, but he would if he had to.


	16. Birthday Boy

Author's Note: Man, this was long. This is the second draft and hopefully, there won't be a third. I feel that this is going to be posted a month after James's birthday, but I didn't have much choice in the matter with school, stress, my mom in the hospital _again_, and all this crap involving being flooded out and ugh. What a year.

Since this involves characters from a series not on this site, here's a brief explanation. Thomas is James's love interest...or would be if he weren't psychotic. Jamie is the third alter, supposed to be the fail-safe/guardian alter who protects them. He never existed in James's universe, but he exists in an alternate one which also has a version of Jimmy and James.

* * *

"Birthday Boy"

November 8th was a date simultaneously dreaded and anticipated by James. Three years since the catalyst event had taken place and since the catalyst's anniversaries began to pass, Jimmy acknowledged the date by utterly ignoring it. He almost aggressively did so, to the point where he refused to even look at a calendar on the date in question. This might not have been an issue for him (though it suggested some trauma left unaddressed), were it not for James.

James knew the date was a source of contention and yet found himself in the same predicament every year. Jimmy ignored the date and James wanted to celebrate it, but didn't dare bring it up. It felt like a balancing act, where Jimmy pretended November 8th didn't exist and James longed to celebrate it like other people enjoyed their birthdays. James felt like he had to walk on eggshells on the date, or, worse, like it coincided with someone's death date.

With this in mind, James dreaded the morning and when he awoke, contemplated taking a sleeping pill to pass the entire day away. But, as the cliché went, time and tide wait for no man and if he didn't get up soon, Osamu would make his displeasure known.

For the moment, Osamu was sleeping on the comforter and James ran his fingers through his hair. Only Osamu was permitted to see James's distress. Only the cat could realize how much of James dealt with control and perception.

He looked around, wondering what had woken him. Then he looked at his watch on the bedside table. He flicked it open and anticipated bad news- his stomach dropped at the thought. Spying his older brother's visage staring back at him made him flinch, though he couldn't fathom what bad news Jamie might bring. Isaac returning from never land to wreak havoc?

"Happy birthday, James," Jamie said, smiling. Even though James knew it wasn't bad news, he felt like the second shoe was about to drop. He looked around, as if expecting Jimmy to be lurking and ready to call them on the slightest hint of celebration.

"My one and only well wisher," James informed him dourly. "And shouldn't I be wishing you the same?"

"Actually," Jamie said and his smile turned rueful. "I'm not sure when my birthday is. I have vague memories pertaining to the catalyst event, but I wasn't fully conscious until much later."

"Then I suppose a birthday card would never be in order," James quipped. His stomach twisted.

"Probably not," Jamie agreed. "I don't know what you had planned-"

James laughed bitterly. "Nothing. The same as it has been for the past three years."

"That's what I thought," Jamie said, frowning. "But if you wanted to come over around five, we might be able to rustle up the semblances of a party."

"Jamie, you shouldn't have," he said sardonically. "Really. I don't like parties."

"Or intimate get-togethers?"

James glared. Jamie rocked on his heels and James could see his guitar on the bed behind him.

"Don't you have a university audition coming up?" he huffed.

"It can wait," Jamie assured him. "It's your birthday, after all."

"And the third anniversary," James retorted.

"You're afraid of upsetting Jimmy, aren't you?" he inquired and James flinched. As usual, the gatekeeper knew him too well.

"This is the first year I've lived under the same roof without sharing a mind. Isaac is gone and I don't want to stir up trouble."

"Hmm. Come over at five anyway," Jamie decided. "Perhaps I'll throw a birthday cake at you. That should appease your sense of guilt and still commemorate the date."

James chuckled weakly. "See you then, eldest."

The picture went blank and he stared at it a moment longer before shutting the watch. Osamu stretched and yawned, looking affronted his master had woken him. Rolling his eyes at his beloved pet, James stroked his head and Osamu ignored him. "You are no one until you've been ignored by a cat", indeed.

He looked at the clock- nearly eight a.m. on a Saturday. He ought to use the extra time to work on his latest prototype and get it out before he wound up distracted.

First, he ought to feed Osamu. Jimmy's mother had reprimanded them about being lazy with the cymbals, so he chose to walk downstairs. Judy was preparing breakfast.

"Good morning, scout!" Hugh greeted. He was reading the morning paper and circling anything that looked like a duck. At least, that's what James assumed. Sometimes, it was hard to fathom.

"Good morning, Father," he replied.

"Ooh, there's a sale on pies!" Hugh said. "Sugar booger, we should go to the store after breakfast and get some!"

"I just bought you two pies yesterday," she protested. She was flipping the pancakes and a bit of flour stuck to her nose. She hadn't noticed.

"I'm going to be working in the lab until this afternoon," he informed them. He opened the fridge and retrieved Osamu's cat food. "So don't wait up."

"Ooh, it's the third year anniversary!" Hugh proclaimed and James fumbled with the can. He nearly dropped it and whirled on his father, who was pointing to a large ad. The tension in his shoulders and chest fled, though he still felt jittery.

"Of this electronics' store opening," Hugh completed. "Didn't something else happen three years ago?"

Judy finished flipping the pancake and frowned. "Yes. It was three years ago that…"

She stopped, staring at James. The color rushed to his cheeks and he gazed at the floor. His heartbeat was so loud, he could have sworn the others could hear it. At the thought, he looked guiltily around, expecting Goddard or Jimmy to materialize.

"Does that make today your birthday?" Judy asked and James stiffened. He looked up and his stomach somersaulted. Perhaps he ought to refrain from eating. Thinking of Jamie's quip about shoving the cake in his face, his lips quirked.

"It's inconsequential," he said.

"It's your birthday!" Hugh exclaimed. "We need to get a cake! And more pie! And presents! Why didn't you say anything, Jam-Jam?"

"Because it's also the third anniversary of the catalyst event," he said. At their blank looks, he elucidated. "When the League attacked Jimmy and he lost his mind."

"No wonder you didn't mention it," Judy said, frowning.

"It's not a big deal," he replied, plastering on a false smile. "Jamie has something planned in the alternate universe."

At least, he assumed he had. It was probably his version of James's birthday too. Leave it to the gatekeeper to keep track. He just wished Jimmy would. At the thought, he shivered. Although he knew the anniversary shamed and depressed Jimmy, he still wished he'd acknowledge, at least for one year, the possibility James might have been ultimately a good thing.

"What does Jimmy normally do?" Judy asked and pursed her lips.

"Act like it's any normal day," he lied. _Act like it was a normal day, practically feud with the calendar. Same thing, really_. His throat clenched and he shook his head. "It's all right. I'll be too busy in the lab to notice."

"You shouldn't spend your birthday in the lab!" Hugh objected. "We need cake!"

"No," James said firmly. "I don't want to do anything that might upset Jimmy."

"But this is the first year you've been living with us…" Judy looked anxious. "Jimmy's been ignoring it?"

"Yes," James said curtly. "I'd better get this food to Osamu before he starts howling and wakes everyone up."

Judy growled and James took a step back, assuming he had wronged her. Something of this must have shown, because she shook her head.

"You mean you've never celebrated your birthday?" she asked.

His forced smile grew wider, though it hurt his cheeks. He looked her in the eyes and lied, "It doesn't bother me."

She gawked, and, taking advantage of her temporary stupor, he headed back upstairs. Osamu was, as he had anticipated, at the door and ready, tail swishing. Smiling indulgently, he dumped the food into his bowl and watched his cat chow down. If only he were as easily appeased.

As if to remind him Osamu was not the only hungry one, his stomach rumbled and he glared at his midsection. Perhaps he'd catch lunch in Italy. That way, he could be on his own and not have to deal with this wretched day.

"Meow," Osamu said once he'd finished.

"Be good," he said and knelt down to whisper, "Pee on Goddard's clothes, would you?"

"You're lucky I feel more inclined toward the cat than you," Goddard said from behind him and James scoffed.

"What do you want? "he snapped.

Goddard glared. "To remind you to stay out of Jimmy's hair today."

"I was just about to leave," he huffed. "I thought I'd alternate the day in Italy and in the lab. No James, no uncomfortable recollections for Jimmy. Or for you."

"Good," Goddard rejoined. "See to it."

James took off his pajama top and flung it in Goddard's face. "My laundry. See to it."

"I'm not your servant," he growled and threw it to the floor. "I wish you'd never been born."

James ought to feel stung by that, though all he really felt was a mild sense of shock. He tried to shrug it off. Goddard was hardly Jimmy's mouthpiece and even if he were, Jimmy didn't agree with those sentiments. There was a time he had, but it wasn't now. Goddard had always hated him and he shouldn't let Goddard's loathing bug him. It was just with Jimmy's absence and Goddard's hostility…

He had more important things to worry about than this. He wouldn't think about it.

* * *

Jimmy awoke at a quarter to ten and stretched. There was another Ultra Lord movie coming out he'd promised Sheen he'd endure and then Cindy wanted to go out for shakes. He wasn't going to acknowledge the calendar. He wasn't.

He dressed quickly, knowing Sheen would be over an hour before the movie to gush about the supposedly new footage. Sheen was sixteen and Jimmy had been privately hoping his time away from Retroville might have ridden him of his Ultra Lord obsession. Instead, it seemed to ebb and flow, coming back in full force whenever something was rereleased. Libby said it was better than it had been, but Jimmy knew for a fact Sheen still wore his Ultra Lord boxers.

Coming downstairs, he discovered his mother vacuuming in the living room and his father commenting on something duck related on the nature channel.

"Good morning, Jimmy!" his mother said. "Your breakfast is in the refrigerator."

"Thanks," he said and smiled. But his mother was still staring and nonplussed, he stared back.

"Why didn't you tell us today is James's birthday?" she said, shutting off the vacuum cleaner.

Jimmy felt like someone had socked him in the gut. "I was trying to forget."

She scowled and then her look softened. "I know it's upsetting, but he deserves a birthday too."

Jimmy glanced at his watch. "Look at the time. Sheen's supposed to meet me soon and-"

The look on her face cut him off. "James Isaac Neutron. You've been ignoring his birthday for three years."

"Mom," he said. "I don't want to think about what happened today."

"I understand that," she said. "But you have to think about how he feels too."

He grimaced. Sheen would be calling in about five minutes to ask what was taking him so long. As banal as Ultra Lord was, it'd at least take his mind off things.

"I will," he promised, but the idea of making a promise he had no intention of keeping made him uneasy. "But not right now. I'll see you guys later."

"Promise me you'll get him a present," she added.

"I promise," he said, though he wondered if he'd even remember. Sheen's exuberance would probably knock it out of his mind. The last time he'd gone to a movie with Sheen, his running commentary had practically ruined the movie. In a bizarre way, Jimmy was looking forward to it. It'd be a return to normalcy, something he'd been lacking for years. Almost three, in fact. He shuddered. The catalyst event and James's birthday.

He ate his pancakes cold and headed outside where, true to form, Sheen and Carl were waiting. Sheen was rambling about the movie while Carl mused about a new llama movie. Jimmy rolled his eyes.

"Can you believe it?" Sheen exclaimed. "It's almost time! An hour until _Ultra Lord_."

"Sheen, you've seen this movie ten times," Jimmy said. "There's nothing new."

"Nuh-uh!" he denied. "There are two minutes of additional footage!"

"The last time you said that, it turned out that there were two more minutes of credits," he pointed out.

"So?" Sheen answered. "Two more minutes of Ultra Lord…" He wore a dreamy expression and Jimmy scoffed.

"Sometimes I wonder about you, Sheen," he said.

"Why?" Sheen said, oblivious.

"You moon over Ultra Lord more than Libby," he said.

"Libby's my main girl...but Ultra Lord…" his eyes widened and he adopted his hero worship stance.

"Is your lover," Jimmy completed and Carl snorted.

"Yes. Wait, no!" Sheen said. Jimmy grinned impishly.

"Just because I love Ultra Lord doesn't mean I'm in love with him!"

"Keep telling yourself that!" Cindy called from across the street.

Sheen glared at Cindy and then at Jimmy. His irritation didn't last very long. Striking another valiant pose, he proclaimed, "For Ultra Lord!"

Then he charged off down the street with Jimmy rolling his eyes. He and Carl followed; Jimmy privately vowed if Sheen went off on another long ramble during the movie, he'd mute him.

* * *

Judy knew the date meant different things to her sons. Ever since she'd decided James should stay in the house, a decision enthusiastically applauded by Hugh, she had decided to treat him as family. In a bizarre way, although she hadn't liked the road leading to James's arrival, she was proud of both her sons. She wanted James to accept her the way he had Hugh and she wanted to get past his defenses so he'd understand she cared for him. Perhaps today might help speed things along.

Hugh insisted on going to the store to pick up a cake and then, of course, a couple more pies. Every time Judy told him there wasn't enough room in the fridge, he protested. Sometimes, she swore the man loved pies and ducks more than her.

"Sugar booger, what kind of card should we get? And what do you think he'd like as a present?"

"Oh!" she said. She hadn't thought about presents. Certainly, they shouldn't be bought in a grocery store.

"You think he'd like a duck shaped pie?" Hugh said wistfully.

"No," she said, fighting a laugh.

"They're all the rage," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "Keep trying."

The sad thing was Hugh might have a better idea what to get for James. Jimmy she knew intimately, despite his two year absence. James was still an enigma. Beyond Osamu and science, she didn't know what he liked. His room remained mostly empty and she'd never had a chance to sit down and really talk to him. Either he spoke with Hugh when she was busy or he spent his time with Jimmy. He seemed to feel uneasy alone with her.

Jimmy would probably know what to get, but she couldn't ask him. She'd have to think about this thoroughly. What did you get a boy you barely knew who had, aside from her mother's day present, never received a gift in his life?

And how old was he? Jimmy's biological age or James's technical age? What did you get someone who'd been cloned out of a thirteen year old's body and had only inhabited his for a year?

"James likes wolves," Hugh said suddenly and Judy jumped, having almost forgotten he was there.

"He told you that?" she said.

"We were watching a nature documentary," he said.

She blinked. She hadn't even known James watched television by himself, let alone with others.

"We should go to the mall," he proclaimed.

"After we put the stuff away," she said severely and he pouted.

"Yes, honey," he replied.

"What else does James like?" she asked.

"History," Hugh said at once.

It felt strange to be asking her husband what her son liked, but he'd spent a lot more time with him. They headed for the checkout and she avoided the bakery section to prevent Hugh adding more pies. The last thing they needed were more pies. She'd barely remembered the birthday cake thanks to his pie obsession. It didn't look like Jimmy had inherited his father's predilection, either- she wasn't certain whether to be grateful or quizzical.

"You know what else James likes?" Hugh said, startling her.

"What?" she asked.

"Betty Quinlan," he said and she chuckled.

"I'm not giving him Betty," she teased.

"You could tie her up with a bow," he said. "Like on our honeymoon."

She stared at him strangely. "I was only wearing the bow."

"Exactly," he said.

"No," she said firmly. "We can tell Betty, but we're not...doing that."

"I remember the last time you were dressed only in a bow...I had a hard time undoing it..." he said and lapsed into thought. She shook her head and pulled up to the cash register. Thankfully, they were regulars and the cashier was used to his banter. She started placing the items on the belt and lapsed into thought herself. James had told them he was in Italy...she hated the emotional distance he had erected between himself and the family. She suppressed the urge to sigh. Sometimes, it felt like she hit a brick wall whenever she got near him.

She loved him. Why wouldn't he let himself see it?

"Hugh," she said, interrupting him mid-diatribe. "Have you ever told James you loved him?"

"Oh, sure," he said. "Lots of times, sugar booger."

"And he says it back?" she asked.

"Well…" he hesitated. The cashier was having a hard time straightening out a barcode and getting it to scan. She glared at it like it had personally wronged her and looked tempted to smash it into the scanner.

"Jam-Jam has a few problems articulating his feelings," Hugh said and smiled. "He's the strong silent type."

"So it's not me…" she frowned.

"What's not you?" he asked, completely foreign to her train of thought.

"Did you want the cake in a separate bag?" the cashier asked, having finally mastered the pie. She tucked a long strand of brown hair back behind her ear; it had escaped her ponytail.

"That's fine," Judy said, though she was distracted again. The cashier resumed ringing them up and she stared at her husband. "Has he ever said those words?"

Hugh frowned. "Once. I told you- words aren't his strong suit. He'd make a good cowboy."

"I'll bet he would," she muttered, far from comforted. She had to wonder how much of James's personality came out of the catalyst event Jimmy hadn't told them about and how much of it was from birth. Jimmy had never been like this. Without knowing exactly what James wanted and liked, she'd have a hard time making sure she got her message across.

She suppressed a sigh. Why couldn't James be easy like Jimmy?

* * *

James was at the moment eating in his favorite Italian bistro. A local musician strummed his guitar on the stage behind him and the atmosphere was relaxed, a world away from Retroville. Perhaps he could stay here and never return.

It hadn't really dawned on him the importance of birthdays until this date last year. Not it was particularly memorable. Jimmy had done his best to make sure it wasn't.

He wished he'd had something stronger than soda. Drinking wasn't conducive to inventing and Jamie would be disgusted to find him drunk, but he was growing morose. Somehow, it'd all fall apart. It had to. Jimmy had done such a good job ignoring the date the last few years, there was no way it'd look up.

"Is this seat taken?" a familiar voice called and James glanced at its owner.

"No," he said and grabbed his sandwich and can. "The table's yours."

"Don't be like that, James," Thomas scolded. He was wearing a red sweater that made his face look rosy and his hair was disheveled. If James cared, he'd be concerned. A disheveled Thomas meant an uneasy one.

"You nearly killed Jimmy," he said lightly. "How would you like me to behave?"

"A little birdie told me today's your birthday."

His insides seized and he blanched. He had to set the soda can and sandwich down because his hands were trembling so badly. Inhaling shakily, he looked him in the eyes. Thomas was smiling and James noted the package in his hands. A present. Despite himself, he was intrigued and forced himself to sit down. It wouldn't do to start a scene.

"A little hacker birdie?" he hissed.

"It was simple cause and effect," he said smoothly. "I researched when the catalyst event, as you and Jimmy call it, occurred. From reports taken after the incident, I deduced you'd been born then."

"You're brilliant," James snarled.

"Don't you want your present?" Thomas said, holding the box up. It was too small to be a picture.

"What is it?" James huffed. "Eau de Thomas?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I promise it's something you'll like."

"A restraining order?" he shot back.

Thomas's smile wavered and he looked away before glancing back. "You'll like it. I promise on…on Betty Quinlan."

James' eyebrows raised, his interest piqued. With misgivings, he took the box gingerly from Thomas and placed it on his side of the table. It was wrapped with blue paper and a silver bow. James undid the bow and removed the tape from the wrapping before revealing the box and opening the top. Thomas was positively jittery with excitement.

James stared and pulled the plush animal out. It was a grey timber wolf, soft to the touch with puppy dog eyes peering back. Stunned, deeply touched, James was speechless. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes and he stared at the wolf. He had to fight not to hug it against his chest.

"I remember you did a report on wolves for biology," Thomas said softly. "There's something else too."

James very reluctantly put the wolf down and looked back into the box. There was a hand painted phoenix, which had become his new invention trademark. Reborn from the ashes of disaster. James was at a complete loss.

"Do you like it?" Thomas asked. Unable to speak, James merely nodded. Tears trickled down his cheeks.

"I promise I'll leave Jimmy and Betty alone for a week, on top of that," he said and James wiped his eyes to no avail. "It's my best offer."

"Thank-thank you," he choked. He replaced the dog in the box and hugged it to his chest. Thomas smiled, got up, and hugged him. James kissed him on the cheek and Thomas gasped, holding his cheek.

"Stop being such a bastard," he admonished.

"Happy birthday," Thomas replied.

* * *

Hoping his version of James shared enough interests with the alternate James to be useful, Jamie relied heavily on him to decide how things should be arranged (symmetrically). So far, he thought it looked all right, though Jamie knew James would pitch a fit if something was off by a quarter of an inch. If his universe's version had OCD, it was almost guaranteed the alternate one would too.

Thankfully, he had gotten to the alternate universe Betty Quinlan before Jimmy's parents had and she was hanging banners. Jamie knew James didn't want a production, but he also knew while he'd deny he wanted the attention, he secretly craved it. If he embarrassed but also pleased him, it was all to the good.

"We're going to have to stop by three so we have enough time to get presents," Betty warned.

Jamie smiled. "That should be amusing."

"What should?" she asked, puzzled.

"Watching him receive birthday presents."

She stared and folded her arms across her chest. Ignoring her look, he resumed putting out place settings and making sure they were situated just so. He was almost tempted to take out a ruler and check.

In the back of his mind, James was silent but Jamie could tell he was pleased. It was as much a celebration for the alternate James as it was for his version.

_**Thank you**_.

Jamie smiled. _You're welcome._

* * *

The movie was passable. For the most part, it bored Jimmy to tears and he couldn't wait for it to be over, but there were occasional moments that interested him. Unfortunately, he and Carl had seen it so many times they started reciting dialogue, which prompted Sheen to act out Ultra Lord's parts and for little kids to pelt them with candy. Jimmy was eternally grateful Cindy and Libby hadn't tagged along.

They walked past the electronics store celebrating its third anniversary. Three years. James's birthday. He had promised his mother he'd get him a present, although he hadn't really intended it. There had to be a better way. He couldn't acknowledge the date, but he couldn't keep punishing James for his birth. The conflict churned his stomach and he found himself ruminating on his mother's reaction to him this morning.

KLANG. He walked straight into the lamppost a few feet past the electronics store.

"You okay, Jim?" Carl asked.

"Fine, fine," he muttered, rubbing his forehead. How long had that lamppost been there?

"That reminds me of when Ultra Lord-"Sheen started.

"We know, we were there," Jimmy interrupted. "You're not going to spend the entire afternoon rehashing what we just saw, are you?"

"Maybe..." Sheen said, glancing away shiftily.

"I have to go meet Cindy for shakes," he said. "I'll catch up with you guys later."

"Oh yeah, well-" Sheen stopped. "I got nothin'."

"Ooh, can we come too?" Carl asked.

Jimmy gawked. "It was a date, Carl."

"Double dates can be fun too!" Carl protested.

"I'm not dating you!" Sheen retorted.

Jimmy rolled his eyes. "I'll see you guys later."

As he walked away, he could hear Sheen revving up to relive the movie. While he pitied Carl, who was probably going to lose his temper after about ten minutes and or talk about llamas, he was glad to flee. The return to normalcy was nice, but it reminded him how much he really hated Ultra Lord. Ultra Lord was so juvenile.

It took him a few more steps to realize he had the cymbals and could just pop into the Candy Bar. He grinned mischievously. If he timed it right, he could pop up right behind her. Of course, she'd probably attack him, but it'd be worth it. He readied the cymbals, pictured the counter, and appeared.

"Nice try, Neutron," Cindy said. "I figured you'd use the cymbals."

She was standing in front of the jukebox- if he had tried to anticipate her move, he'd have wound up colliding with it. He and James hadn't experimented with teleporting into solid objects. Jimmy didn't want to imagine what would happen. With his luck, he'd probably wind up stuck inside.

"Way to be predictable," she said and blew him a raspberry. "Escaping Sheen?"

"No," he denied and at her laugh, added, "Maybe. But don't tell him that."

"Your secret is safe with me."

It turned out Cindy had reserved a booth in the back, the same one he, Carl, and Sheen used to frequent. He settled happily into it, up until Cindy punched him in the shoulder and broke his reverie. Her eyes were twinkling.

"You know, it's been six months since we started going out again," she said.

"Exactly six months?" he asked.

"You're a genius!" she snapped. "How the hell did you forget?"

"I've had other things on my mind," he countered.

"And it's six months tomorrow, so you have one whole day to screw it up," she said. Despite her tone, she still looked amused.

"Your confidence in me is astounding," he said.

"It always is," she retorted. "Should I ask what you're going to get me that you haven't thought of yet?"

"A gag," he teased and she smacked him.

"I could always take you through the chrono arch and show you the future," he offered.

"No," she said. "Make a gift. Buy me one. I don't care. No hand-me-downs."

"Must you always be so difficult?"

She smirked. "Yes."

"Are you two gonna order or sit around gossiping, yeah?" Sam asked, approaching the table. Cindy fixed him a look, but the Candy Bar owner was not impressed. Jimmy smirked. Not everyone was susceptible to her vitriol.

"Fine," she said. "We'll have a strawberry banana float for two. Good enough?"

"You'd better leave me a good tip if you're gonna live here, yeah," he grumbled as he walked away.

"Sometimes, I think I'd rather live in your lab," she muttered.

"Not entirely mine anymore," he said and winced. "But...we're not talking about that. Or James. All day."

"What?" she said and then her eyes widened. "Oh. Have you heard from Eddie recently?"

"He's been checked into a mental hospital," Jimmy said. "Evidently, he's the youngest ward to ever exhibit advanced paranoid schizophrenia accompanied with seizures. They found him in his lab with Curie trying to administer sedatives."

"And Curie is...?"

"His equivalent of Goddard," he explained.

"At least he won't be bothering us any time soon," she declared.

"His mother's got an ax to grind," he said. "Somehow, all she got out of her son's insane ramblings was that this was my fault."

"Another person whose life you've ruined," she said pleasantly.

"He deserved it," he said darkly.

"What's this? Neutron getting vengeful?" she quipped.

"He's been a thorn in my side for too long," he said. He idly spun the salt shaker around on the table and she flicked it back in his direction. They looked up to discover Sam making the float. He brought it over to the table after casing them both dirty looks and stalked off.

"Any other news?"

"My mother may be pregnant," he said. Cindy, about to launch into the split, choked. Eyes watering, she downed water, glared suspiciously at him, and wiped her lips. Jimmy sat back, mildly amused. His amusement turned to physical pain when she kicked him under the table.

"Jeez, Neutron!" she snapped. "You could have given me some warning!"

"I could have," he agreed. "But it's not often I see you with whipped cream on your chin."

She wiped that off and threw the napkin at his face. He let it bounce off and land in front of him. Her eyes flashed.

"Are you serious?"

"About the whipped cream?" he teased.

"About your mother," she growled.

He nodded. "We're not positive yet- Mom wants to wait until she's sure."

At this, he paused. "She miscarried after me and there was only one alternate universe I encountered where I had a sibling…and she wasn't my mother's daughter."

"Wait. What?" she asked and he was caught for a moment in her shimmering green eyes. It took him a second to recover and he shook his head.

"You're better off not knowing," he said.

"Neutron with a sibling," Cindy snorted. "Another Neutron genius. I don't think the world can handle three."

"Three? Oh, right, James," he said absently.

Cindy gawked and then lobbed another napkin at his head. "Isn't today supposed to be his birthday or something?"

"Or something," he agreed.

Their eyes met and Cindy shook her head. They sat in silence and worked on the split between them. Cindy tapped his foot lightly and stared through the window. Across the street, Cindy's mother was flirting with a man Jimmy didn't recognize. Cindy's face tightened and she chinked her water glass against his. Startled, he looked back.

"To another Neutron kid," she said. "May it be a girl this time."

Jimmy offered her a wan smile and blocked her view of the window. Her face constricted further, but she whispered, "Thanks."

"Sure you don't want to take a trip to the future?" he remarked.

"No," she said stiffly and grimaced. "I've lost my appetite."

Jimmy struggled not to glance at the strange man again. It reminded him of the universe he'd encountered, giving him more incentive not to tell Cindy. She looked unhappy enough as it was.

"How about a trip to Paris?" he asked. "We can take the hover car."

"Fine," she hissed. "Anywhere but here."

Jimmy inclined his head and paid for the split before Cindy could object. It didn't look like she cared, however- her gaze was drawn painfully toward her mother and her paramour. Jimmy wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her out of the Candy Bar. It looked like they both had things to avoid today. Maybe they could take solace in each other…or maybe Cindy could verbally flay him a thousand ways before they even reached Paris. The latter seemed far more likely.

* * *

James arrived in Retroville at a quarter to three. His father had told him, rather excitedly, he had something for him. Since James had neglected another meal, he almost hoped it might be cake. Not that he normally made a meal of cake, but a free meal was a free meal. Plus, it was hard not to get swept up in his father's excitement. James smiled. He was rather fond of Hugh Neutron, strange man that he was.

"Happy birthday, James!" Hugh and Judy announced when James popped into the living room. James's jaw dropped open. There was a birthday cake visible in the dining room and a rather large box sitting on the couch. The child in him wanted to rush straight to the presents and forgo the cake. He gaped at the present, which concealed another behind it, and then at his parents.

"We got you a game system!" Hugh announced.

"Hugh!" Judy reprimanded.

"All the boys his age have one!" Hugh proclaimed.

"Can I open them?" James said. His eyes were drawn to the giant package and he found himself unconsciously advancing toward it. Presents all for him. _Presents_. He'd left Thomas's gifts in his bedroom. The idea of more gifts was almost unthinkable. This was more than he'd ever received in his whole life.

"Of course," Judy said. She frowned. "It's a shame your brother couldn't be here. I tried calling and he didn't pick up."

James grimaced, trying to ignore the pain of knowing why Jimmy wouldn't answer. "It's all right. I'll see him tomorrow."

"He promised he'd get you a present," she continued.

"It's fine," he insisted. He started ripping the paper on the largest package. Immaturity seized him and it was hard to retain control long enough to unwrap the gift properly. Shreds of paper fell (Judy immediately ran to grab a trash can). James uncovered enough to discover it was a PS3 complete with a series of video games. Jimmy had a video system, though he'd never played with him.

"It comes with a video game about a hero with electric super powers!" Hugh said. He looked like he wanted to jump up and down. "And another where you can create your own world! Do you like it?"

James swallowed, turning the video games over in his hands. To have a video game system meant he'd be normal and belong. Plus, electrical powers were appealing. They had always appealed to him, especially because if he had had them, he'd be able to shock Goddard. A wicked grin split his face at the thought.

"Yes," he said and tried to hug the box. Its sharp edges dug into his skin and he stopped. Judy, meanwhile, cleaned up the tissue paper. James moved onto the bag and examined it curiously. The present was well wrapped.

"What is it?" he inquired. He wanted to surround himself with his presents and sit in a huddle with them.

"You'll have to find out," she responded. Carefully this time, he unwrapped it. It was a digital picture of the family- it reminded James of a fantasy photograph in that everyone moved. They were all waving. James felt tears prick his eyes again and determinedly ignored them.

The last present, as it turned out, was an eReader. Perplexed, James turned it on and discovered it was loaded with history and alternate history books. James hugged it and the photograph to his chest. (The PS3 being far too large to hug comfortably).

"Thank- thank you," he said. His throat constricted and he bowed his head.

"You might not think it's true all the time, but we love you," Judy said. Blushing now, he looked down. Those three words were almost better than all the presents he'd gotten so far. He only looked up when she touched his shoulder.

"And now it's time for cake!" Hugh announced.

"Yes, dear," Judy said, rolling her eyes.

* * *

If James was nervous crossing over into the alternate universe, Jamie was doubly so. Although everything had been set to what Jamie assumed James would like (black and white napkins with geometric designs on them, a phoenix banner, and violin music), the faint possibility of error underlay everything he did. Betty Quinlan was playing it by ear, since she was trying to reassure him all the while afraid she'd misstep. They didn't work together as well as Jamie and his version of Betty did and, though it might be Jamie's imagination, there was something 'off' about her compared to his girlfriend. Or maybe he was just worried about impressing James.

There was one small matter Jamie had left. At a quarter to five, Jamie tried for the fifth time to contact James's Jimmy. No matter that Jimmy was determined not to celebrate- Jamie wanted to force the issue. Ignoring it wasn't going to help and Jamie knew, despite everything James said or did, that he really wanted Jimmy there. He just wasn't going to admit it.

The sixth time, the phone actually picked up. Cindy Vortex stared back and Jamie counted to ten. Great. The second to last person he wanted. Now all they needed was for Isaac to crash the party.

"What the hell- Jamie?" Cindy said. His chest constricted and then relaxed. He'd forgotten that alternate Cindy didn't hate him the way his version did.

"Is Jimmy around?" he inquired politely.

"Yeah, hang on," she said. "Neutron!"

She tilted the watch up and Jimmy arrived, hands wet. Jamie throttled an irrational rage at Jimmy for so clearly ignoring James's birthday.

"Jamie?" Jimmy frowned. "What is it? What's the matter?"

"I'm not going to lecture you," he said. "But you and I both know you're avoiding something."

Jimmy exhaled shakily. The camera bounced as Jimmy settled back into a chair. Cindy leaned over his shoulder and the two peered at Jamie. Jamie gritted his teeth. He was tempted to tell Cindy he had intended to speak to Jimmy in private, but that would be rude.

"Jamie, I don't want to discuss it."

"You're hurting his feelings by doing this."

"I know," he said, clipped. "But it can't be helped."

"Yes, it can," he said obdurately. "You have to confront this and stop running away. The reason you don't want to deal with James's birthday is because you're ashamed of him."

Jimmy opened his mouth, but Cindy cut in first.

"That's bullshit," she snapped. "If he were ashamed of him, he'd-"

"You can't bring yourself to admit it, either," Jamie said, interrupting. "By outright denying the day, you're denying James the basic rights and tenets someone born normally enjoys."

"I'd be fine celebrating his birthday any other day!" Jimmy shot back.

"Then you're denying him his birthday and rearranging it to suit yourself," Jamie countered. Betty Quinlan crept up from behind to watch.

Jimmy glared. "I don't want to think about what today is."

"But any day you rearranged to suit yourself as James's birthday would have to correspond to today," he pointed out.

There was silence. Cindy grabbed Jimmy and whispered in his ear and he whispered back. The mike was good, but it didn't work when it had a hand over it. Jamie sighed, glancing back at Betty.

"Do you see why this was so important?" he asked.

"If he doesn't want to come, you shouldn't force him," Betty replied.

"Ignoring the problem doesn't make it go away," he replied. "Did ignoring Cindy make her vanish?"

Betty didn't answer, though her eyes narrowed. Jamie suspected Betty had some strongly worded criticism of Cindy she kept to herself.

Jimmy reappeared and Jamie narrowed his eyes.

"What do you want me to do?" Jimmy asked. Cindy was hanging over his shoulder and her fingers dug into his arm. Though it looked painful, Jimmy didn't comment on it.

"To come and join the party."

"No," Jimmy hissed.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"For fuck's sake, he can do whatever the hell he wants," Cindy snapped.

Jimmy scowled. "I don't want to celebrate today."

"And as I've told you, you're punishing James for something beyond his control and alienating him when he wants you the most," Jamie shot back. "You don't even have to buy him anything. Just stop ignoring the date."

"When is the party?" Jimmy asked.

"Six."

"Cutting it a little close, don't you think?" Cindy growled.

"I've been trying for the past three hours to call you," Jamie replied.

"I thought you might have been James," Jimmy said and while Jamie had no idea the look on his face, Jimmy and Betty winced.

"You realize he would deliberately avoid calling you, right?" Jamie said tensely.

"Yes," Jimmy said and shook his head. "I suppose I've been so wrapped up in ignoring the date that I haven't been thinking clearly."

Jamie's lips twitched. "It'll be fine if you're late. I don't intend to tell James you're coming, so it'll be a surprise."

Jimmy tensed and Jamie knew he hadn't fully committed himself yet. He and Cindy exchanged a glance and then he inclined his head.

"I suppose I'll see you, then," he said and, without saying goodbye, hung up. Jamie frowned. He knew this was the best thing for Jimmy and James, but Jimmy's obstinacy still made him doubt himself.

* * *

At exactly six o'clock, James headed into the alternate universe. He had misgivings and doubted whether Jamie had actually gone through with it. Then someone, presumably Jamie, grabbed him coming out of the arch and teleported him into the yard. Before James had time to recover, a black haired blur flung herself at him and hugged him.

"Happy birthday, James!" Betty Quinlan cried and kissed him on the lips. Dazed and disoriented from the teleportation, he barely had time to react.

"He needs a second or two to recover," Jamie reprimanded, but he was cheerful. He pulled James away from Betty and hugged him. James blinked, waiting for his vision to settle and to orient himself.

"Happy birthday, James," Jamie and Betty chorused.

James blinked rapidly. The alternate universe felt like it always had- close to his own, but not quite right. Things didn't mesh the way they did in his home world. Still, that was clearly his Betty Quinlan standing next to Jamie and Jamie's Goddard glaring. James smiled and took a few cautious steps with his stomach whirling.

He glanced at the banners Jamie had hung from the side door and the picnic table with black and white tablecloth fitted with chess pieces. There was a cake, not yet lit, and presents nearby.

"Sorry that's all we have," Betty said. "It was kind of short notice."

James gaped and then smiled. "It's more than I've gotten before."

She beamed and rushed forward to hug him again. Oddly enough, today the random physical contact didn't bother him as much. He hugged her back and when she tilted her head upward, he kissed her. Adrenaline rushed through his veins and he hoped he hadn't misread the signs. Surely, if she didn't want him to kiss her, she'd just...

Kiss him back. She was holding him tighter now and he could feel every inch of her pressed into him. He warmed, the jitters vanishing and being replaced by contentment. It started out soft, undemanding, but there was passion beneath the surface and James quickly forgot they had an audience. He also missed Goddard catcalling.

Jamie finally pulled them apart right before James discovered he had briefly stopped breathing.

"Sorry to interrupt the festivities, but I have a room upstairs if you two need it," Jamie teased.

"Sorry," Betty said, blushing. James blushed too, but he was also grinning.

"Is that your present?" he couldn't resist asking.

"Part of it," she said. "There's one I'll give you later, in private."

Jamie snorted. "I must say, James, it is strange to imagine you and Betty Quinlan together."

Quietly, as if admitting to a great truth, James confessed, "It is, isn't it?"

Betty smiled and shrugged. "What can I say? He makes a convincing Phantom."

Still stunned, he sat down on the picnic bench and stared around Jamie's alternate Retroville. Though he knew so far everything had gone much better than usual, he couldn't help but expect Isaac to pop out of the woodwork. Or something equally horrendous. Everything was too good to be true. He licked his lips and tried to distance himself from the feeling that he was waiting for the second shoe to drop.

"For musical accompaniment, I thought you'd like to hear what I've been working on," Jamie said and grinned. James inclined his head and rubbed his palms on his pants.

"Nothing bad is going to happen," Betty said as if reading his mind.

"You don't know that," he remarked quietly. She sat beside him on the bench and took his hand. He jerked and at her puzzled and slightly hurt expression, explained.

"Sudden touch startles me," he said. "I'm not used to it."

Jamie fitted the cymbals to his fingers again and fixed James a stern look. James stared stonily back. There was more to James's explanation than he had given Betty, but until and unless he trusted her as much as Jimmy, she'd hear no more. It was a highly personal matter. James didn't go blabbing his and Jimmy's secrets.

"Should I warn you when I'm about to touch you?" Betty asked. Her eyes danced despite her serious expression.

"That would appreciated," he said. He grimaced. "I apologize if I've made matters more difficult-"

"No," she replied. "It just takes the spontaneity out of things."

"Oh," he said, chagrined. "I apologize. I-"

She held her finger under his chin and lifted his head so their eyes met. "Stop that. When you trust me more, you'll feel more comfortable. I know you will."

James smiled, wondering when that would happen, and she smiled back.

"So...presents or cake?" she asked.

"We're forgoing dinner?" James asked and Jamie smirked.

"I thought we'd eat dinner afterward," he replied. "We'll get the important things in first and then worry about nutrition."

James's gaze flicked to the presents and Betty leaned close, not quite touching. He suppressed a shiver, this one of anticipation, and imagined what she'd be giving him in private. His cheeks flushed.

"The one wrapped in royal blue is from me and the one in grey is from Jamie," she instructed.

Distantly, although he logically shouldn't have been able to hear it, he thought he discerned the chrono arch opening. Puzzled, he glanced at Jamie. Then there was a flash of light and his Jimmy and Cindy appeared behind Jamie.

"What?" he asked and Jamie smiled.

"I invited them. Consider them party crashers," he teased.

Jimmy was pale and glanced at the decorations and then at the balloons James had missed which were anchored to rocks in the yard. Jamie shared Jimmy's pallor, though his gaze had gone to Cindy. At James's side, Betty squeezed his hand. He was exceedingly confused. The last person he'd expected to see today, aside from Isaac, was his Jimmy.

Cindy was first to break the awkward silence.

"Happy birthday, Provanzano," she said and tossed something at him. He fumbled and caught it- it was a small porcelain wolf.

"I'd fling the receipt at you too, but given Neutron dexterity..." she smirked.

"You didn't have to get me a present," he protested. His eyes began to burn again and he gently put the wolf down on the table before he dropped it.

"I don't hate you enough to ignore your birthday," she shot back and then glanced at Jamie. She smiled at him, but he didn't smile back. "Hello, Jamie."

He inclined his head. "Hello, Cindy."

"His version of Cindy doesn't play nicely with him," James said. "So don't expect much."

She snorted and scanned Jamie up and down. Folding her arms across her chest, she said, "I don't know why not. He's kinda hot in a punk rocker Neutron kind of way."

She startled a laugh and then a genuine smile. "A version of Cindy paying me a compliment. Perhaps we'd better make sure she isn't under the influence of some illegal narcotic."

It was then James realized that not only hadn't Jimmy wished him a happy birthday he hadn't greeted him or anyone else. He had a vacant expression and he kept inching backward, like he wanted to return to the lab post haste and had forgotten the cymbals. James studied him and didn't make any sudden movements. Jamie's gaze had followed his and both boys contemplated Jimmy.

"Neutron!" Cindy snapped and nudged him. Jimmy jumped and then glanced at Jamie.

"I really don't think this is appropriate," he said.

"It's his birthday," Jamie replied. He flicked his gaze at Cindy and then back to Jimmy. "Why is it Cindy has an easier time than you?"

Jimmy swallowed and grabbed Jamie's arm. "Can I talk to you in private?"

Cindy grabbed Jimmy's collar and hissed, "Neutron."

"It's all right," James remarked quietly. "You don't have to force him into it, Jamie."

Jimmy gawked and then shook his head. "I comprehend what you intended to do and I applaud your efforts, but I can't be here."

"By ignoring his birth, you're ignoring everything good that eventually came out of it," Jamie said softly. "You're punishing him. Do you regret James's existence?"

James flinched. He grew cold and clammy and Betty's hand on his had no effect. His stomach flip-flopped, making him wish he'd eaten nothing at all. The second shoe had fallen. Damn it, Jamie shouldn't have pressed the issue. Yes, he'd wanted to see Jimmy, but it wasn't worth wrecking his birthday over. He knew this would go over like a lead balloon.

Gnawing the inside of his lip, he fought the urge to fidget. He was starting to feel tremendously guilty, reminded of what he'd done and the ruins he'd made of Jimmy's life before Jimmy had put it to rights. Maybe Jimmy still regretted his existence a little.

"Jimmy, I know you blame yourself for what happened and perhaps, for your mind fracturing to produce James. You have to let it go. Neither of you are going to be happy until you confront it."

Jimmy folded his arms across his chest and grimaced. "I don't regret James's existence."

He didn't look at him as he said it and James had a hollow feeling where his stomach should be.

"Can you overlook how he was born and just accept that he was born?" Jamie continued. All eyes, save one pair, were on him and Cindy had a strange look on her face- a combination of sympathy and horror. She began fidgeting and was the only one not looking at Jamie.

"His new icon is a phoenix rising from the ashes," Jamie pressed. "You, of all people, must know what that symbolizes."

"I know," Jimmy whispered.

"I know you love him," Jamie continued, smiling. "You've said so yourself and you wouldn't consider us brothers if you didn't equate us with family."

James felt rooted to the spot. He had begun to tremble and Betty rubbed his arm. Though he didn't flinch like normal, he also didn't react. He felt strangely numb or maybe he hoped he did.

"Yes, this date in the past was horrible," Jamie said. "Yes, it changed your life. And yes, perhaps you wanted to undo it before. But you have to take the good with the bad, Jimmy."

Jimmy trembled too and James was shocked to discover a tear trickling down his cheek. He shook his head and wiped it away; Cindy kissed the trail it had left. Betty gasped and James glanced at her.

"I didn't think she could be tender," she muttered.

Jimmy smiled at Jamie and it felt like the sun breaking through the clouds. "You're a good gatekeeper, Jamie."

"I try my hardest," Jamie replied.

"As will I," Jimmy answered and, without warning, broke free of Cindy to hug James tightly. James hugged him back.

"Happy birthday, alter."

James found himself beaming. "Happy anniversary, host."

"Don't call me that!" Jimmy admonished and James grinned.

There was a pause and Jimmy admitted, somewhat sheepishly, "I didn't get you a present."

"That's all right," James said. "I'll steal one later."

"No, you won't!" Jimmy reprimanded and James laughed. He clapped Jimmy on the back and released him, though he still felt physically close to him. Jimmy, meanwhile, had resumed looking mildly irritated, probably remembering all the other times James had stolen things. There was still something there, a distance Jamie hadn't bridged, but it was lesser. Maybe it could be bridged, in time.

"Where the hell's the music?" Cindy interrupted. "We can't have a party without music."

Jamie grinned. "Quite right."

Picking up his guitar, he strummed a few bars and then inclined his head toward Goddard, who had disappeared and then reappeared with refreshments. Come to think of it, Goddard had spent a suspiciously long amount of time missing.

Punk rock music issued out of Goddard's speakers (James had no idea where they were, so it had the effect of making Goddard into a portable boom box) and Jamie picked up his guitar. And although it wasn't the type of music James preferred, although Jimmy still looked slightly out of place and like he had to force himself to be happy, and although Cindy and Betty looked like they wanted to maul each other, things could have gone worse. James definitely had to say this made it on his list of top ten birthdays.

And who knew? Maybe Isaac would show up on fire. He snorted.

"What?" Betty asked and James leaned forward to look at Jimmy. Cindy was sitting in between them.

"Isaac bonfire," he said and Jimmy slapped a palm to his forehead.

"You would think of that," Jimmy said.

"I'm dreaming of a flaming alternate, just like the ones I used to know…" he sang softly. Betty looked confused and Cindy snickered.

"Isn't it a little early to be singing Christmas carols, Provanziti?" she asked.

"Perhaps," James replied. He grinned, closing his eyes and letting Jamie's music take him away while he imagined Isaac burning to a crisp. It'd been a good day.


End file.
